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THE  POLLY  PAGE 
YACHT  CLUB 


SHE  LEANED  FORWARD,  INTENT  ON  EVERY  POINT 


THE 

POLLY  PAGE 
YACHT  CLUB 


BY 
IZOLA  L.  FORRESTER 

AUTHOR  OF    "ROOK'S  NEST,"   "US  FELLERS,"  ETC, 


PHILADELPHIA 

GEORGE  W.  JACOBS  &  CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  IQIO,  by 

George  W.  Jacobs  &*  Company 

Published  November,  IQIO 


All  rights  reserved 
Printed  in   U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I     THE  LAUNCHING  PARTY 


PAGE 

7 


II  GLENWOOD    ........     M     ..,     ...     .      18 

III  POLLY  SHIPS  HER  CREW 33 

IV  FITTING  OUT 49 

V  ON  BOARD  THE  "HIPPOCAMPUS"     ....     66 

VI     THREE  DAYS  AT  SEA 81 

VII     LANDING  AT  LOST  ISLAND .98 

VIII     DROPPING  ANCHOR ..,     .   121 

IX     THE  CAPTAIN  CALLS .   140 

X  A  HOME  ON  THE  ROLLING  DEEP    .      .      .      .158 

XI     SMUGGLERS'  ISLE 173 

XII     "GiRL  OVERBOARD"        . 194 

XIII  POLLY'S  "CURRENT  EVENTS" 206 

XIV  "MR.  SMITH  OF  SMUGGLERS'  COVE"     .      .      .   232 
XV     THE  PEARL  FEST 251 

XVI     THE  CAPTAIN'S  PARTY 268 

XVII     POLLY  PREPARES 290 

XVIII     THE  REGATTA    . 304 

XIX     THE  FIRST  EVENT 326 

XX  THE  WINNER  OF  THE  JUNIOR  CUP     .      .      .  340 


2129564 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

She  leaned  forward,  intent  on  every  point  .  Frontispiece 

FACING    PAGE 

"Girls,  I've  got  it !"  .      .      . 12 

A  happy,  dripping  lot     .            , 162 

"First  batch  of  marshmallows  ready  !"  called  Ruth  .  266 

Combing  their  hair  and  chatting,  girl  fashion         .  292 


THE  POLLY  PAGE 
YACHT  CLUB 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    LAUNCHING    PARTY 

"SHE  was  here  just  a  minute  ago.  Wait  till 
I  find  her,  girls.  We  can't  go  ahead  without 
Polly." 

Ruth  Brooks  dropped  her  bouquet  of  white 
roses  on  the  piano  stool,  and  hurried  out  into  the 
long  corridor.  It  was  still  crowded  with  people, 
although  Crullers  had  played  the  tenderest,  sad- 
dest strains  of  "Traumerei,"  and  "Blumenlied," 
to  let  them  know  it  was  time  to  go  home.  Ruth 
paused  on  the  lower  staircase  a  minute  to  see 
if  Polly's  brown  head  showed  anywhere  below. 
Between  the  square  reception  hall,  and  the 
library,  stood  Miss  Calvert,  her  figure  tall  and 
imposing  in  its  black  silk  gown  of  state,  even 

7 


8  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

among  so  many.  If  there  was  one  day  in  the 
entire  year,  when  she  was  radiantly  happy,  and  in 
her  favorite  element,  it  was  Commencement  day, 
so  her  girls  said. 

After  the  closing  exercises,  the  members  of 
the  H.  S.  Club  had  managed  to  slip  away  un- 
observed during  the  reception.  Polly  had  passed 
the  secret  word  around  that  a  last  meeting  would 
be  held  in  the  music  room  before  school  closed  for 
vacation  time.  Yet  in  spite  of  this  Polly  herself, 
founder  of  the  Hungry  Six  Club,  and  its  presi- 
dent, and  chief  cook,  was  now  missing. 

Months  before,  when  the  fall  term  opened,  the 
H.  S.  had  been  formed  as  a  mutually  protective 
association.  Out  of  thirty-four  pupils,  twenty- 
eight  at  Calvert  Hall  were  out-of-town  girls. 
The  other  six  were  day  scholars,  and  all  lived  at 
Queen's  Ferry,  Virginia.  Therefore  the  six  had 
banded  together,  and  stood  by  one  another  faith- 
fully, against  the  united  force  of  the  twenty- 
eight  "regulars." 

"What  did  Polly  tell  us  to  wait  up  here  for?" 
asked  Isabel  Lee. 

"Vacation,"  came  Sue's  matter-of-fact  tone 
from  the  curtained  window,  where  she  was  watch- 
ing the  long  procession  of  carriages  and  automo- 


YACHT  CLUB  9 

biles  in  front  of  Calvert  Hall.  "Polly  has  an 
idea,  and  she  wants  us  to  sew  buttons  on  it." 

"Oh,  girls,  who's  got  the  chafing-dish?  Did 
any  one  remember  to  get  it  at  all?"  Edwina, 
which  the  girls  cut  short  to  Ted,  looked  dismayed 
at  the  others,  and  nobody  responded.  It  was  a 
serious  moment.  If  the  H.  S.  Club  had  pos- 
sessed a  coat-of-arms,  there  would  have  been  a 
chafing-dish  rampant  on  a  field  of  fire  as  part 
of  its  symbolism.  It  had  been  Polly's  Christmas 
present  to  the  club.  She  had  smuggled  it  in,  all 
unknown  to  Miss  Calvert  or  the  other  girls,  and 
had  beguiled  Annie  May,  the  colored  cook,  to 
hide  it.  On  special  occasions  it  made  its  appear- 
ance at  feasts,  wonderful  feasts,  prepared  with 
the  help  of  Annie  May,  when  the  Hungry  Six 
foregathered  behind  locked  doors,  with  the  chaf- 
ing-dish in  the  place  of  honor. 

"Open  the  door,  just  a  little  way,  girls,"  Polly 
would  always  say,  just  at  the  crucial  moment, 
and  the  tempting  fumes  of  some  chafing-dish 
decoction  would  float  away  down  the  long 
dormitory  corridor,  until  the  noses  of  the  twenty- 
eight  caught  it,  and  there  was  an  instantaneous 
bombardment. 

"Hold  it  open  till  the  last  minute  when  you 


10  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

see  them  coming,"  Polly  would  cry,  her  brown 
eyes  dancing  with  fun,  as  she  presided  in  one  of 
Annie  May's  huge  aprons,  and  waved  a  big 
spoon.  "Just  let  them  get  a  good  whiff  of  it, 
so  the  clans  will  gather,  and  then  we'll  bar  the 
door." 

And  the  clans  always  gathered.  First  from 
one  room,  then  another,  in  the  upper  dormitories, 
the  "regulars"  would  troop  forth,  and  cluster 
around  the  door  where  the  day  pupils  ate  their 
luncheon.  Polly  always  held  that  it  was  wise  to 
wait  until  twelve-thirty,  as  by  that  time  the  regu- 
lars would  have  finished  eating.  Sometimes 
they  would  catch  murmurs  from  the  corridor. 

"Smells  like  crab  meat,"  some  one  would 
whisper,  and  from  the  inner  shrine  Polly  would 
declaim, 

'Tis  crab  meat,  with  green  peppers." 

Then  a  deep  groan  would  rise  from  the  "regu- 
lars," and  the  Hungry  Six  would  smile  at  each 
other,  for  revenge  is  sweet.  They  could  not  for- 
get the  midnight  feasts  which  the  "regulars" 
held  while  they  were  away. 

Yet,  at  the  very  last  minute,  they  had  forgot- 
ten the  chafing-dish.  Some  of  the  people  were 
already  leaving,  and  the  imposing  line  of  car- 


,YACHT  CLUB  11 

riages  outside  the  stately  old  Hall  was  growing 
thinner. 

"Hadn't  one  of  us  better  go  down-stairs  to  the 
kitchen,  and  find  Annie  May,"  suggested  Ted, 
anxiously.  "Polly's  probably  talking  to  some- 
body, and  has  forgotten  all  about  us.  I  saw  the 
Admiral  lift  up  his  finger  at  her,  and  that  signal 
between  them  always  calls  Polly  to  attention. 
Wasn't  it  dear  of  him  to  come  and  talk  to  us! 
What  was  it  he  said?  Oh,  I  know.  Look, 
girls,  like  this."  Ted  struck  a  dignified  posture 
in  the  center  of  the  floor,  her  chin  set  deeply 
in  her  lace  collar,  her  brows  drawn  down  in  imita- 
tion of  the  Admiral's  own  bushy  ones. 

"Standing  with  reluctant  feet, 

Where  the  brook  and  river  meet, 
Maidenhood  and — " 

"Girls,  I've  got  it!" 

In  the  doorway  stood  Polly,  her  curly  hair, 
brown  and  glossy  as  a  ripe  chestnut,  tied  back 
in  a  cluster  of  long  curls  that  reached  to  her 
waist,  her  brown  eyes  brimming  over  with  mis- 
chief, and  in  her  hand,  wrapped  carefully  in  a 
clean  pillow  case,  was  something  the  girls  all 
recognized  by  its  outlines. 


12  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"I  thought  of  it  the  very  last  minute,"  went 
on  Polly,  quickly,  "Annie  May  hid  it  the  last 
time  we  used  it,  you  know,  and  I  forgot  to  ask 
her  where  she  had  put  it.  And  she's  down  in 
the  back  hall,  crying  over  the  girls  who  are  leav- 
ing, so  of  course  I  couldn't  disturb  her.  So  I 
hunted  around  the  kitchen,  in  the  wash  boiler, 
and  up  in  her  room,  then  I  guessed.  You  know 
the  linen  closet  in  the  back  hall.  It  was  in  there, 
way  down  under  some  gray  blankets  on  the  bot- 
tom shelf.  Wasn't  she  the  wise  old  darling  to 
put  it  under  the  gray  ones,  so  it  wouldn't  show  if 
it  should  happen  to  get  a  spot  on  them!  And 
then  I  heard  Honoria  calling  me." 

"Whatever  did  you  do,  Polly?"  whispered  the 
girls,  tensely. 

"I  slipped  the  chafing-dish  into  a  pillow  case, 
left  it  on  the  hall  settee,  and  went  to  see  what 
she  wanted.  And  afterwards,  Mrs.  Yates  sent 
for  me  to  be  introduced  to  her." 

"The  Senator's  wife?"  asked  Isabel,  eagerly. 

"Yes'm.  She  used  to  be  one  of  Miss  Calvert's 
girls  when  she  was  young,  and  she  wanted 
specially  to  meet  me  for  the  sake  of  the  Ad- 
miral. It's  dreadful,  all  the  things  I  have  to  go 


"GIRLS.   I'VE  GOT   IT!" 


YACHT  CLUB  13 

through  for  the  sake  of  that  boy.  She  even  said 
I  looked  like  him." 

Polly's  low,  rippling  laugh  was  smothered  by 
a  judicious  toss  of  a  sofa  pillow  from  Sue. 

"Be  quiet,  goosie,  or  you'll  have  everybody 
rushing  up  here  to  see  what's  the  matter.  Put 
the  pillow  case  over  the  chafing-dish  so  it  won't 
be  seen,  and  tell  us  what  happened.  Why  did 
you  tell  us  all  to  come  up  here?" 

Polly  seated  herself  on  the  arm  of  the  nearest 
chair,  and  pushed  back  her  hair  from  her  fore- 
head with  a  gesture  exactly  like  the  Admiral's. 

"Ladies,  and  sisters,  and  dear  colleagues,"  she 
began,  in  imitation  of  Miss  Calvert's  Commence- 
ment Day  rhetoric. 

"Don't  speechify,  Polly,"  ordered  Ruth, 
cheerfully.  "Hurry  up.  It's  getting  late." 

But  Polly  went  serenely  on  her  own  way,  which 
was  characteristic  of  her. 

"We  stand  at  the  parting  of  the  ways,  don't 
we?  The  last  year  at  dear,  precious  old  Hon- 
oria's  is  over  for  Ruth  and  Kate.  No  more  will 
we  six  use  the  historic  chafing-dish,  no  more  bat- 
tle with  the  twenty-eight  strangers  who  have 
lingered  within  our  gates."  She  turned  her 


14  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

head,  and  smiled  at  Ted  and  Sue.  "Am  I  on 
the  right  thread  of  discourse,  sisters?  Does  it 
sound  like  oratory?" 

"Oh,  bozzer,"  said  Sue,  helplessly.  "Play 
ball,  Polly,  please,  please,  play  ball." 

"I'll  be  good,  and  stop,"  Polly  retorted, 
laughing.  "Listen.  All  the  rest  of  the  girls, 
excepting  us,  are  going  away  on  vacations. 
Real  ones,  I  mean.  And  for  the  next  two 
months,  what  are  we  going  to  do?" 

"Nothing  but  rest,"  Sue  said,  dismally. 

"That's  just  it.  We'll  stay  around  home  the 
way  we  always  do,  have  a  few  picnics,  and  a  few 
lawn  parties,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  We 
shan't  have  any  real  vacation,  anything  that  is 
different  from  everything  else  we  do  the  whole 
year  round,  shall  we?" 

Five  heads  shook  in  unison. 

"But,  Polly,  it  would  take  so  much  money," 
began  Ruth,  picking  one  of  her  roses  abstractedly 
to  pieces. 

"If  we  went  any  distance  at  all,"  Kate  Julian 
laid  down  the  book  she  had  been  looking  over 
while  Polly  talked.  She  met  Polly's  eager 
glance,  and  smiled.  Kate  was  nearly  eighteen, 


YACHT  CLUB  15 

but  both  Ruth  and  herself  were  firm,  true 
friends  of  Polly's,  and  the  Admiral  said  he  ap- 
proved because  Polly  needed  ballast  now  and 
then  to  keep  her  steady  on  her  course. 

"Oh,  it's  quite  a  distance,"  exclaimed  Polly. 
"It  wouldn't  be  any  fun  to  go  along  the  shore 
here." 

" Anybody 'd  think  to  hear  you,  Polly,  that  you 
had  a  whole  island  to  colonize,  and  an  air-ship 
to  travel  in,"  Kate  teased.  "I  think  you're  just 
blowing  a  lovely  bubble." 

Even  Polly  had  to  laugh,  for  at  Calvert  Hall 
her  rainbow  bubbles  that  would  float  so  beauti- 
fully for  a  whole  minute,  then  turn  into  air, 
were  a  steady  source  of  fun  among  the  girls. 

"Well,  you  may  laugh,  but  I  have  the  island 
even  if  I  haven't  any  airship,"  she  said. 

There  was  the  soft  rustle  of  silk  outside,  and 
Miss  Calvert  stood  in  the  doorway.  She  was  not 
the  typical  principal  of  a  school  for  girls,  Hon- 
oria  Calvert.  There  were  too  many  "laughing 
wrinkles,"  as  Polly  called  them,  around  her  gray 
eyes ;  and  the  corners  of  her  generous  mouth,  and 
the  way  the  girls  clustered  about  her,  told  more 
plainly  than  words,  how  dear  she  was  to  them  all. 


16  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"The  Admiral  is  asking  for  you,  Polly,  my 
dear,"  she  said.  "Won't  the  girls  excuse  you, 
now?" 

"Tell  my  commanding  officer,  'Aye,  aye,  sir,' 
please,  Miss  Calvert,"  Polly  replied,  rising  at  at- 
tention. 

"Hurry,  girls,"  cautioned  Miss  Calvert,  with  a 
warning  uplift  of  her  finger,  as  she  went  back  to 
her  guests.  Polly  hurried. 

"Girls,"  she  whispered,  "report  for  duty 
Saturday  afternoon,  at  Glenwood,  all  of  you,  be- 
cause if  we  are  going  to  do  this  thing,  it  must 
be  started  right  away." 

"Oh,  Polly,"  pleaded  Sue,  "is  it  anything 
where  we  can  have  the  dear  old  chafing-dish 
feasts?" 

Polly  turned  around  as  she  reached  the  door- 
way, and  swung  the  pillow-case  around  her  head. 
Inside  it,  the  chafing  dish  cover  rattled. 

"Indeed  it  is,"  she  cried.  "We'll  need  it  more 
than  ever.  Will  you  all  be  sure  to  come  Satur- 
day?" 

"Sure,"  echoed  all  of  the  girls,  solemnly. 
"Polly's  going  to  hold  a  launching  party  all  her 
own." 


YACHT  CLUB  17 

Polly  laughed,  and  nodded  mysteriously. 

"There'll  be  something  happening  besides  a 
big  splash  if  I  do,"  she  said,  and  hurried  out  to 
join  the  Admiral. 


CHAPTER  II 

GLENWOOD 

THE  music-room  was  on  the  east  side  of  the 
hall  at  its  farthest  end.  As  Polly  hurried  along 
the  hall,  she  caught  sight  of  a  woe-begone  figure, 
and  stopped  short.  The  Admiral  was  waiting 
for  her  just  beyond  the  arched  entrance  to  the 
reception  room.  From  where  she  stood,  she 
could  just  see  his  shoulder,  and  some  iron  gray 
curls  which  shook  a  little,  so  she  knew  he  must 
be  laughing.  The  Admiral's  curls  were  always 
a  weathervane  of  his  mood.  Polly  hesitated, 
then  following  her  first  impulse,  she  slipped  into 
the  library,  and  put  her  hand  on  Crullers'  shoul- 
der. Such  an  unhappy,  moist  Crullers,  though, 
very  different  from  the  happy-go-lucky,  easy- 
going girl  of  the  past  term.  She  raised  a  tear- 
ful face,  and  sobbed  outright. 

"I'm  not  going  back  home." 

"You're  not!"  Polly  checked  herself.  She 

18 


YACHT  CLUB  19 

was  not  much  given  to  expostulations.  The 
shortest  way  around  any  trouble  was  straight 
through  the  middle,  she  always  held.  "Why 
aren't  you?" 

"The  children  are  down  with  measles,  so  I'll 
have  to  stay  here  for  weeks,  and  it  spoils  my 
vacation." 

Polly  considered.  It  was  not  a  very  joyous 
outlook.  During  the  long  summer  vacation,  the 
big  gray  house  was  shrouded  in  darkness,  and 
Miss  Calvert  usually  went  to  the  seashore  for  a 
rest. 

"Maybe  Honoria  would  take  you  with  her 
when  she  goes  away,"  Polly  suggested,  but  Crul- 
lers shook  her  head  dismally. 

"No,  she  won't.  She  says  she  doesn't  want 
any  such  responsibility  as  I  would  be.  I  am  to 
be  left  here  with  Annie  May  and  Fraulein." 

Polly  frowned  at  such  an  outlook.  Annie 
May  was  not  so  bad.  The  big-hearted  old  col- 
ored mammy  who  acted  as  cook  at  the  Hall  was 
far  preferable  as  a  pleasant  companion  to  Frau- 
lein, the  teacher  of  German,  with  her  neuralgia 
and  shaded  eye-glasses.  Polly  had  always  said 
that  she  believed  those  glasses  were  the  whole 
reason  why  Fraulein  took  such  a  dismal  view  of 


20  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

life.  Green  glasses  were  enough  to  turn  Harle- 
quin into  an  undertaker. 

"Don't  you  mind,  Crullers,  precious,"  she  said, 
patting  the  round  rosy  cheek  nearest  her.  "The 
girls  from  our  own  crowd  are  coming  over  to 
Glen  wood  on  Saturday,  and  you  ask  Miss  Cal- 
vert  to  let  you  come  along  with  them.  I  have  a 
plan  ahead  for  the  summer,  and  maybe  you  could 
go  with  us.  Who  knows?  Don't  cry.  I  never 
cry  except  when  things  are  all  wrong,  and  I  can't 
fix  them  right.  We'll  find  a  way." 

The  Admiral  called  in  the  hallway  outside, 

"Polly!     Time's  up." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  Polly,  promptly,  and 
with  a  final  pat  on  poor  Crullers'  head,  she 
caught  up  her  cloak  and  the  chafing-dish  from 
the  hall  settee,  and  joined  the  Admiral  at  the 
door  of  the  reception  room. 

Miss  Calvert  was  standing  beside  him,  and  the 
tears  came  in  her  eyes  as  she  looked  at  Polly, 
slender  and  sweet  in  her  gown  of  softest  white 
mull. 

"I  shall  miss  her  this  summer  more  than  any 
of  my  girls,  Admiral,"  she  said,  half  sadly. 
She  has  done  more  this  year  towards  giving 
the  other  girls  the  right  point  of  view — " 


YACHT  CLUB  21 

"Now,  Miss  Honoria,  I  must  insist  that  you 
stop  filling  Polly's  head  with  such  ideas," 
laughed  the  Admiral,  his  eyes  twinkling  proudly, 
as  he  bent  over  Miss  Calvert's  hand  with  the  old- 
time  grace  of  a  gentleman  who  could  call  Vir- 
ginia his  home  state. 

"Don't  you  believe  him,  Miss  Calvert,"  Polly 
said  severely.  "He's  a  great  deal  worse  than 
you  are.  If  it  wasn't  for  mother's  good,  sensible, 
Massachusetts  spirit  in  me,  I'd  be  so  puffed  up 
that  I'd  blow  away  with  the  first  strong  breeze. 
But  I  do  like  to  be  praised,  indeed,  I  do.  I  just 
love  to  be  loved  and  appreciated." 

Miss  Calvert  kissed  her,  and  stood  in  the  door- 
way, as  the  two  went  down  the  broad  steps  from 
the  veranda.  The  Admiral's  carriage  was  wait- 
ing, with  old  Balaam  on  the  box,  smiling  till  his 
face  looked  like  a  piece  of  shirred  black  satin. 
The  Admiral  handed  Polly  into  the  carriage  as 
if  she  had  been  a  duchess,  and  turned  to  bow 
once  again  to  Miss  Calvert. 

"Isn't  she  a  dear?"  said  Polly,  with  a  sigh  of 
genuine  comfort,  as  the  carriage  turned  the 
corner,  and  the  broad  riverside  road  lay  before 
them.  "It  doesn't  seem  as  though  I  had  finished 
my  Freshman  year  at  school,  grandfather." 


22  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Finished?"  repeated  the  Admiral.  "Why, 
bless  my  heart,  girlie,  you've  just  begun  now. 
Three  more  years  at  the  Hall,  then  four  years  in 
college,  and  then  after  that  I  rather  think  you  and 
I  will  tramp  around  some  rare  old  corners  of  this 
old  world  that  I  know  of  just  to  freshen  up. 
And  when  you  come  back  your  aunts  will  make  a 
society  bud  of  you,  and  I  shall  lose  my  little  mess- 
mate." 

Polly's  eyes  were  grave  in  an  instant.  As  she 
put  her  head  down  on  the  broad  shoulder  nearest 
her,  and  rubbed  her  cheek  on  it,  very  much  like  a 
satisfied  kitten. 

"You'll  never  lose  me,  grandfather.  Don't 
you  know  what  mother  always  said?  We  were 
worse  than  twins,  the  way  we  always  stood  by 
each  other,  and  chummed  together.  Don't  you 
remember?" 

The  Admiral  stared  at  Balaam's  back  in  front 
of  them.  And  then  he  coughed  vigorously,  and 
patted  the  hand  on  his  knee.  It  was  nearly  four 
years  since  Polly's  mother  had  passed  over  the 
mysterious  bourne,  from  which,  we  are  told,  no 
traveler  returns.  Polly  had  been  ten  then,  and 
four  aunts  had  offered  separately  to  bring  her 
up  properly.  But  the  Admiral  had  stood  firmly 


YACHT  CLUB  28 

on  his  rights,  and  Polly  had  remained  at  home 
with  the  Admiral,  and  her  old  mammy,  Aunty 
Welcome,  to  give  orders.  Welcome  had  been 
in  the  family  since  Balaam  was  first  made  coach- 
man, but  no  one  could  even  guess  her  age. 

"Doan't  ask  me  sech  foolish  questions,  chile," 
she  used  to  say  to  Polly.  "I  dun  kept  'count  till 
I  was  ninety,  den  I  lost  track,  and  I  ain't  had  no 
buffday  since." 

She  stood  at  the  entrance  to  the  drive  now, 
when  the  carriage  turned  into  the  grounds  of 
Glenwood,  the  Admiral's  spacious  home  on  the 
river  bank.  Nearly  as  tall  as  the  Admiral  she 
was,  and  spare  and  strong  as  some  fine  old 
weather-beaten  pine.  In  spite  of  newer  fashions, 
she  wore  her  bandana  folded  turbanwise  around 
her  head,  and  beneath  it  a  few  gray  wisps  of  hair 
could  be  seen.  Her  under  lip  protruded  greatly, 
"jes'  on  account  of  making  dat  chile  behave  her- 
self," she  used  to  say.  To-day,  she  was  smiling 
grimly,  and  her  deep-set  eyes  sparkled  like  old 
jet  as  she  looked  at  the  slender  figure  in  white 
sitting  up  so  sedately  beside  the  Admiral. 

"Don't  you  know  'miff  to  raise  dat  parasol,  and 
pertect  dis  chile's  complexion,  Admiral?"  she  de- 
manded, haughtily.  "Has  I  got  to  watch  over 


24  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

her  when  she's  out  of  my  sight?  Ain't  she  got  a 
terrible  leaning  towards  freckles  anyway? 
Wouldn't  she  look  fine  under  her  snow  white 
bridal  veil  all  brown  freckles?  I  declar'  I'm 
ashamed  of  you,  Admiral,  I  suttainly  am." 

Polly  laughed  as  she  stepped  from  the  carriage 
and,  slipping  one  arm  around  the  old  figure,  en- 
tered the  big  house.  But  Welcome  scolded 
firmly  all  the  way  up-stairs  to  the  large,  cool 
south  chamber  that  had  been  Polly's  special  do- 
main ever  since  Welcome  herself  had  carried  her 
into  it,  a  wee  baby. 

It  was  a  delightful  room,  the  dearest  in  all  the 
world,  Polly  thought.  The  south  windows  over- 
looked the  garden,  and  below  the  river  gleamed 
like  silver  through  the  thick  foliage  and  clamber- 
ing vines.  Over  the  old  gray  stone  walls, 
rambled  Virginia  creeper,  pushing  its  tendrils 
even  around  the  window  casements,  and  if  one 
leaned  far  out,  one  might  pick  a  cluster  of  sweet, 
old-fashioned  climbing  bride's  roses,  from  the 
vine  that  wound  itself  around  the  trellis  just 
beneath  Polly's  pet  window. 

"Aunty,  don't  I  look  'most  grown-up?" 

Polly  stopped  for  a  moment  before  the  long 


.YACHT  CLUB  25 

mirror  between  the  windows,  and  looked  at  her- 
self thoughtfully. 

"  'Deed,  you  don't,"  Welcome  responded,  reso- 
lutely. "Ain't  nuffin'  but  a  baby.  Getting  so 
self-compinionated,  dere  won't  be  any  living  with 
you,  chile,  not  a  bit." 

"I  want  long  dresses  pretty  soon."  Polly  put 
the  idea  suggestively,  her  brown  eyes  full  of 
mischief. 

"Long  dresses!  For  mercy  sakes.  Hyar  dat 
chile  talk.  Don't  need  long  dresses  any  more'n  a 
toad  needs  a  side  pocket." 

Polly  laughed  as  she  slipped  out  of  her  white 
•dress  and  into  a  simpler  one  for  home  use;  then 
ran  down-stairs  to  join  her  grandfather.  On  the 
right  hand  side  of  the  lower  hall  was  the  Ad- 
miral's own  private  retreat,  from  which  Polly 
herself  was  barred  admission,  save  by  special  per- 
mit. When  she  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
she  hesitated,  and  listened.  The  hallway 
divided  the  house  equally,  running  its  full  length, 
with  great  doorways  at  either  end,  opening  on 
broad  verandas.  Every  evening  before  dinner, 
Polly  and  the  Admiral  walked  in  the  garden,  and 
told  each  other  the  happenings  of  the  day.  It 


26  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

was  an  old  sweet  custom,  that  dated  back  to 
Polly's  toddling  days,  and  they  both  looked  for- 
ward to  it  as  the  happy  climax  to  each  day's  rou- 
tine. 

Polly  took  a  golf  cape  from  the  hall  rack,  and 
threw  it  around  her  shoulders.  Although  it  was 
the  end  of  June,  the  evenings  were  still  cool  along 
the  river,  and  Aunty  Welcome  would  scold  if  she 
went  out  into  the  night  unprotected. 

Stretched  out  at  full  length  before  the  door- 
way was  Tan,  the  old  setter.  He  lifted  his  head, 
bent  one  friendly  ear  towards  her,  and  beat  his 
long,  silky  tail  lazily  on  the  floor. 

"Tan,  you  old  goose,"  said  Polly,  kneeling  be- 
side him,  "why  don't  you  make  a  fuss  over  me? 
Don't  you  know  this  is  one  of  the  golden  days 
of  life  for  me?  You  might  at  least  bark!  I 
suppose  you're  waiting  till  I  finish  Calvert  Hall 
and  college  besides.  Well,  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  it 
is  something  to  be  through  your  Freshman  year 
at  Calvert  Hall.  It  is  hard  work,  I'd  have  you 
know." 

Tan  dozed  lazily  off  while  she  talked  to  him. 
She  rose  with  a  little  sigh,  and  went  softly  out 
into  the  garden.  On  the  top  step  she  paused, 
just  for  a  minute,  and  lifted  her  face  to  the 


,YACHT  CLUB  27 

evening  light.  Polly  loved  that  old  garden. 
During  babyhood  and  childhood  it  had  been  her 
wonderland  of  enchantment,  her  play  country  of 
mystery  and  make-believe.  It  was  just  sunset 
now,  and  the  mellow  light  turned  the  old  gray 
walls  of  the  house  into  battlements  of  splendor. 
The  garden  stretched  primly  before  her,  with  its 
beds  of  flowers,  trimly-cut  hedges  and  last  of  all, 
four  terraces  sloping  to  the  river.  An  old 
cypress  stood  guard  at  the  rustic  steps  leading 
down  to  the  boat  landing.  Polly  hurried  along 
the  narrow  paths  until  she  came  to  the  spot  the 
Admiral  loved  best.  In  the  old  days  she  had 
always  called  it  the  Wishing  Seat,  for  if  one 
caught  the  Admiral  there  at  the  sunset  hour,  and 
wished  a  really  good  wish,  it  was  almost  always 
sure  to  come  true.  Beneath  an  apple  tree  it 
stood,  with  banks  of  lilacs  behind  it.  A  rose 
bush  drooped  over  one  corner,  a  bush  of  old-fash- 
ioned musk  roses  that  Polly's  mother  had  planted 
there  years  ago,  palest  pink,  and  so  fragrant  that 
even  at  twilight  the  humming  birds  fluttered 
around  them  lovingly. 

There  had  been  a  sun  dial  near  the  old  Roman 
seat,  but  only  the  pedestal  was  left,  and  that  was 
overgrown  with  morning-glory  vines.  When 


28  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Polly's  brown  curls  had  barely  reached  the  top 
of  the  dial,  she  had  loved  to  climb  the  two  steps 
of  the  stone  pedestal  and  pick  off  the  little 
trumpet  shaped  buds,  and  "pop"  them.  Didn't 
you  ever  do  it?  It's  lots  of  fun. 

The  Admiral  sat  as  usual  on  the  old  seat,  his 
iron  gray  hair  upcurling  from  his  high  fore- 
head, as  Polly  had  told  him  once,  for  all  the 
world  like  a  surprised  cockatoo.  He  was  resting 
placidly  after  the  unaccustomed  excitement  of 
the  Commencement  exercises,  and  Polly  looked 
down  at  him  with  a  certain  secret  pride  before 
she  made  her  presence  known.  He  was  so  alto- 
gether right,  she  had  decided  long  ago,  this 
grandfather  Admiral  of  hers.  He  had  been  re- 
tired from  active  service  for  years,  and  still  she 
never  could  understand  how  the  naval  forces  of 
the  country  managed  to  get  along  without  him. 
He  was  seventy  now,  but  as  tall  and  straight- 
shouldered  as  a  certain  naval  cadet  in  the  full- 
length  oil  painting  over  the  mantel  in  the  library. 
His  cheek  was  as  rosy  and  clear  as  Polly's  own, 
and  his  eyes  like  hers  were  as  brown  and  bright  as 
a  robin's.  He  wore  a  moustache  and  long  im- 
perial, both  silver  white,  and  there  was  an  air  of 


YACHT  CLUB  29 

distinction  about  him  that  was  totally  indescrib- 
able. Polly  declared  that  even  the  cab  horses 
standing  around  the  Capitol  grounds  bowed 
their  heads  when  the  Admiral  passed  by.  She 
slipped  her  hands  over  his  eyes  now,  before  he 
had  discovered  her  presence. 

"Guess?" 

"Bless  me,  I  couldn't  possibly." 

"Oh,  please."  In  Polly's  gentlest,  most  per- 
suasive tone. 

"I  haven't  the  remotest  idea  who  it  could  be." 

"Then  you  have  to  pay  a  forfeit."  She  leaned 
over  and  kissed  his  cheek,  then  slipped  into  the 
seat  beside  him. 

"Admiral  grandfather  darling,  listen  to  me." 
It  was  Polly's  regular  way  of  opening  up  a  seri- 
ous discussion.  "The  girls  are  coming  to-mor- 
row, no,  day  after  to-morrow,  Saturday.  There 
are  seven  of  us  altogether,  Sue  Warner,  Ruth 
Brooks,  Kate  Julian,  'Ted'  Moore,  Isabel  Lee, 
'Crullers'  Adams  and  my  own  self.  Do  you 
think  Aunt  Milly  will  mind  my  bringing  so 
many?" 

The  Admiral  chuckled. 

"So  many?     Seven  girls,  with  Welcome  and 


30  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

an  old  chap  like  myself  to  look  in  on  you  once 
in  a  while  to  keep  you  out  of  hot  water, — that's 
not  many,  Polly." 

Polly's  face  brightened. 

"I'm  so  glad  you  think  so.  I  was  half  afraid 
we  should  be  too  many.  And  it  wouldn't  do  to 
ask  one  or  two  or  three,  and  leave  out  any,  be- 
cause we  are  all  mates.  You  understand,  don't 
you,  dear?" 

The  Admiral  said  he  understood  perfectly,  and 
Polly  paused  long  enough  to  hug  him,  before  she 
asked, 

"Have  you  ever  seen  the  place  at  all?" 

"In  a  general  way,  but  I  don't  remember  much 
about  it.  It's  a  quiet,  pretty  bay,  and  there's  a 
village  at  one  end  and  a  row  of  summer  cottages 
along  the  shore.  I  went  up  there  to  attend  a 
regatta  one  year,  the  first  year  Milly  joined  the 
yacht  club.  She  did  it  for  the  sake  of  the  boys, 
because  they  were  very  enthusiastic  over  their  new 
boats." 

"But  you've  never  been  on  Lost  Island." 

"Never." 

"It's  got  such  a  queer  name,  hasn't  it?  Lost 
Island.  I  wonder  if  it  ever  did  get  lost." 


YACHT  CLUB  31 

"I  believe  it  did.  Seems  to  me  that  Milly  used 
to  tell  how  the  shore  line  shifted  about  with  winter 
storms,  but  you  girls  won't  be  there  in  stormy 
weather.  If  you  catch  a  few  heavy  equinoctials 
along  at  the  end  of  August,  it's  about  all  you  can 
expect.  From  what  Milly  wrote  to  me,  it  is  alto- 
gether sheltered  from  the  open  sea,  and  the  very 
best  place  you  could  possibly  find  for  a  club  for 
girls.  Better  figure  on  a  good  stock  of  life  pre- 


servers." 


"I  did  put  down  life  preservers,  grandfather," 
Polly  said  seriously.  "And  I  showed  Aunty  the 
list,  and  what  do  you  suppose  she  said  ?  She  told 
me  that  Annie  May's  doughnuts  would  make  the 
best  ones  she  knew  anything  about.  Isn't  that 
delicious?" 

"Is  you  out  in  dat  dew  and  damp,  all  un- 
covered, chile?" 

Welcome's  resolute  tones  rang  out  from  the 
upper  window,  and  Polly  .obeyed  instantly.  She 
might  coax  and  persuade  the  Admiral,  but  with 
Welcome  there  was  no  compromise,  and  Polly 
knew  it. 

"I'm  coming  right  in-doors  now,  Aunty." 

"Well,  I  should  say  you  was.     Dis  window 


32  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

sill's  jest  a-soppin'  wet  now.  Admiral,  you  ain't 
got  any  more  common  sense  about  dat  chile's 
welfare  dan  if  you  was  a  stotin'  bottle." 

The  Admiral  rose  from  the  stone  seat  and  tried 
to  argue  the  point,  while  Polly's  dimples  danced 
mischievously  at  the  quick  fire  between  the  two. 
Dearly  did  she  love  a  bout  between  them. 

"Aunty  Welcome,  I  really  must  insist,  I  really 
must,  on  your  treating  me  with  a  little  more  re- 
spect." It  was  comical  to  listen  to  the  Admiral's 
appealing  tones.  "I  cannot  stand  such  talk  for- 
ever. Even  a  worm  will  turn,  Welcome,  you 
know,  even  a  worm." 

"Pouf,"  came  from  old  Aunty's  indignant  lips. 
"Whoever  heard  of  a  worm's  a-doing  anything 
when  it  did  turn?  You  come  along  in  out  of  dat 
night  air,  sail,  or  you'll  get  de  coltywobbles  you'- 
sef.  Come  along,  now." 

The  window  closed  emphatically,  and  Polly 
meekly  slipped  her  arm  around  the  Admiral's 
elbow,  and  they  went  up  to  the  house  together. 


CHAPTER  III 

POLLY     SHIPS     HER     CREW 

THE  following  day  Polly  was  very  busy,  mys- 
teriously busy,  but  not  one  word  did  she  speak  to 
anyone  of  the  household,  regarding  her  purpose. 
She  pored  over  books  in  the  library,  and  wrote 
items  down  for  future  reference.  But  the  Ad- 
miral was  able  to  guess  her  intentions,  for  every 
once  in  a  while,  she  would  hail  him  with  various 
queries. 

"Grandfather,  dear,  what's  a  cuddy?" 

"Small  cabin  up  for'ad,"  responded  the  Ad- 
miral. "Why,  matey?" 

"Is  it  anywhere  near  the  lobscouse?"  asked 
Polly  anxiously,  tapping  her  under  lip  with  her 
pencil. 

The  Admiral  laughed  till  the  tears  came  in  his 
eyes,  and  he  had  to  blow  his  nose  vigorously. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  that's  funny,"  pro- 
33 


34 

tested  Polly  with  dignity.  "It  says  here  that 
they  tackled  the  lobscouse  in  the  cuddy." 

"I  haven't  the  least  doubt  of  it,"  laughed  the 
Admiral  heartily,  "and  not  one  scrap  did  they 
leave  to  throw  to  the  porpoises,  either,  did 
they?" 

But  Polly  refused  to  be  teased,  or  daunted  in 
her  purpose.  When  the  girls  arrived  on  Satur- 
day afternoon,  she  was  prepared  to  meet  them, 
and  very  businesslike  and  imposing  the  library 
appeared  with  the  earnest  faces  gathered  around 
the  old  flat-topped  mahogany  table  that  stood  in 
its  center. 

"We  all  came,  Polly,"  said  Sue,  fanning  her 
flushed  face  with  a  blotter,  comfortably.  Sue 
rarely  stopped  for  the  fitness  of  things.  If  she 
needed  anything  at  all,  she  always  took  the  first 
substitute  at  hand,  rather  than  go  without.  "It's 
getting  pretty  warm  weather,  sister  clubbers, 
know  it?" 

"Sister  clubbers?"  repeated  Isabel.  "Sue,  how 
you  do  talk." 

"Well,  it  is  hot,  all  the  same,  isn't  it,  Polly?" 

Polly  laughed,  and  stepped  to  the  doorway  to 
receive  from  Aunty  Welcome's  hands  a  generous 
tray  with  ice-cold  fruit  lemonade  in  a  tall  cut 


YACHT  CLUB  35 

glass  pitcher,  covered  with  a  snowy  napkin,  and 
a  plate  of  fresh  honey  jumbles. 

"You  be  suah  and  stir  dat  up  well  from  de 
bottom,  chile,"  cautioned  Aunty.  "Doan't  want 
all  juice  when  you  got  orange,  an'  banana,  an' 
strawberries,  an'  cherries,  an'  mint  leaves." 

"Oh,  you  darling  Aunty  Welcome,"  cried 
Ted  and  Sue,  and  Ruth  blew  the  old  mammy  a 
kiss  from  her  finger  tips,  while  Isabel  and  Kate 
smiled.  They  were  all  favorites  with  her,  and 
knew  mighty  well  how  to  value  her  favor. 

Polly  set  the  tray  at  her  end  of  the  long  table, 
and  poured  out  the  luscious  summer  drink  while 
she  went  on  talking. 

"There's  one  more  to  come  still,  girls.  I  hope 
you  will  all  agree  with  me  and  be  nice  to  her.- 
It's  Crullers." 

"Crullers!  Why,  she  has  gone  home,"  ex- 
claimed Isabel. 

"No,  she  hasn't,"  said  Polly,  calmly.  "Her 
brothers  have  the  measles,  and  everybody  else's 
little  brothers  and  sisters  are  likely  to  have  it  at 
Sharon  Hill,  where  she  lives,  so  Crullers  cannot 
go  home  for  a  vacation.  I  found  her  crying 
when  I  left  you  girls  last  Thursday,  and  I  told 
her  to  come  to-day.  Do  you  mind?" 


36 

"I  don't,"  Ruth  spoke  up  cheerfully.  "I  al- 
ways liked  Crullers,  poor  little  thing." 

"Poor  little  thing,"  Isabel  repeated,  dubiously. 
"She's  heavier  than  I  am,  and  can  eat  nearly  a 
whole  pie  at  once." 

The  other  girls  broke  into  a  peal  of  laughter 
over  the  protest.  Nobody  dreamt  of  taking 
Isabel  or  her  protests  at  all  seriously.  She  was 
always  the  first  to  see  the  windmills  waving  their 
terrible  arms  in  the  distance,  and  the  first  one  to 
plan  the  attack  on  them.  Crullers  was  a  favor- 
ite with  all  the  day  scholars  at  Calvert  Hall. 
Her  name  was  Jane  Daphne  Adams,  but  the 
combination  had  proven  too  great  a  strain  on  the 
Hungry  Six's  sense  of  humor,  so  they  had  cut  it 
short  to  Crullers.  Four  times  a  month  a  large 
box  arrived  for  Jane  Daphne,  filled  with  crullers 
from  home,  and  she  never  failed  to  donate  them 
to  the  chafing  dish  feasts.  Therefore  she  her- 
self had  been  named  in  honor  of  them. 

Before  there  was  time  to  say  any  more,  there 
was  a  step  in  the  hall,  and  Crullers  herself  ap- 
peared, rather  shyly,  in  the  library  doorway. 
She  was  plump  and  rosy-cheeked,  with  deep 
dimples  and  big  blue  eyes  that  seemed  to  ques- 
tion everything,  and  if  there  was  anything  at  all 


YACHT  CLUB  37 

in  the  way  that  Crullers  could  fall  over,  she  al- 
ways took  a  tumble.  At  school  the  girls  had  de- 
clared that  Crullers  would  trip  over  her  own 
shadow  any  time.  She  was  fifteen,  and  slow  in 
every  way,  slow  to  think,  or  act,  or  speak,  or 
learn,  and  awkward  as  some  overgrown  lamb; 
but  behind  the  awkward  shyness  there  lay  a 
staunch,  faithful  nature  that  Polly  knew  and 
loved.  She  had  found  out  long  ago  that  it  was 
far  safer  to  depend  on  Crullers'  slowness,  than 
on  Isabel's  hasty  willingness  that  usually  burnt 
itself  out  like  a  pinwheel  in  two  minutes. 

"I  didn't  know  you'd  all  be  here,"  said  Crul- 
lers, hesitating.  "Hello,  Polly." 

Polly  kissed  her,  and  seated  her  next  herself 
at  the  table,  close  to  the  pitcher  of  lemonade,  for 
she  knew  the  surest  way  to  Crullers'  heart. 

"We  expected  you,"  she  said,  just  as  if  all  of 
the  girls  had  signified  their  intention  of  adopt- 
ing Crullers  into  their  new  circle.  "Now  I 
think  we  may  proceed  with  the  business  of  the 
afternoon.  I  want  to  read  a  letter  to  you  girls, 
first.  It  came  from  my  Aunt  Milly  last  week." 
Polly  paused,  and  smiled,  as  she  always  did  when 
she  mentioned  the  bevy  of  aunts  who  watched 
over  her  from  a  distance.  "Aunt  Milly  is  grand- 


38  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

father's  youngest  daughter,  and  she's  a  dear. 
She  lives  in  Boston,  or  at  least  just  outside,  in 
Newton  Centre,  and  she's  married  and  has  four 
boys." 

"What  are  their  names?"  asked  Sue,  promptly. 

"It  doesn't  matter,  for  they  will  not  be  there," 
answered  Polly,  firmly.  "Here's  her  letter." 
And  she  read  it  aloud. 

"My  DEAR  POLLY: 

"I  am  writing  this  hastily,  on  the  eve  of  our  sailing 
for  London  town.  Your  Uncle  Thurlow  was  compelled 
to  go  abroad  this  summer  on  business,  and  offered  to  take 
the  boys  also,  so  we  are  all  going  to  join  him  in  London. 
It  has  occurred  to  me  that  if  you  and  father  have  not 
already  made  summer  plans,  you  would  enjoy  yourselves 
at  Eagle  Bay.  Lost  Island  has  been  the  boys'  favorite 
outing  place  for  years,  and  I  am  sure  you  would  like  it. 
It  is  on  the  coast  of  Maine,  not  far  from  Bar  Harbor,  but 
somewhat  out  of  the  summer  tourist's  beaten  track.  If 
you  get  tired  of  roughing  it  in  the  boys'  bungalow  on  the 
island,  you  could  stop  at  the  hotel  on  the  main  shore.  But 
if  you  care  for  the  open,  there  is  a  good  camp  outfit  down 
there,  and  some  boats,  and  perhaps  you  might  turn  it  into 
something  worth  while. 

"It  is  not  really  an  island,  except  when  the  tide  comes 
in.  There  is  a  neck  of  land  that  connects  it  with  the 
main  shore  at  low  tide.  The  boys  wish  me  to  add  that 
the  Captain  will  show  you  about  everything,  and  that  he 


YACHT  CLUB  39 

and  Tom  have  the  yachts  down  at  their  landing.     I  hope 
you  will  go,  and  spend  a  happy  vacation. 

"Lovingly  always, 

"AUNT   MlLLY." 

"Who's  the  Captain?"  asked  Kate. 

Polly  shook  her  head,  and  laid  the  letter  on  the 
table.  "I  don't  know  any  more  about  it  than 
you  girls  do,  but  I  want  to  go.  Grandfather 
is  willing  to  act  as  consort,  he  says.  You  know, 
a  consort  is  the  ship  that  trots  along  to  look  after 
other  ships.  That  means  he  will  stay  up  at  the 
hotel  near  the  telegraph  office,  and  have  regular 
meals.  I  know  him  like  a  book.  But  Aunty 
Welcome  will  go  along  as  cook,  and  I  suppose 
we  should  have  a  chaperon." 

"Oh,  let's  don't,"  implored  Sue,  pushing  back 
her  hair  from  her  forehead,  as  she  always  did 
when  she  was  listening  intently.  "Ruth  is  seven- 
teen, and  Kate  is  going  on  eighteen.  Let's  do 
it  all  ourselves.  It  will  be  ever  so  much  more 
fun." 

"And  it  won't  be  as  if  we  were  wrecked  on  a 
desert  isle,  Polly,"  laughed  Ruth.  "There  are 
sure  to  be  plenty  other  vacationers  around  with 
whom  we  will  get  acquainted.  I  suppose  there's 
a  real  house,  isn't  there?" 


40  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Polly  nodded  her  head. 

"I  guess  so,  from  the  letter.  Aunt  Milly  al- 
ways lived  at  the  hotel  up  the  beach,  and  the  boys 
had  an  old  fisherman's  cottage— 

"Do  you  mean  a  fisherman's  old  cottage?"  sug- 
gested Isabel. 

"Well,  anyway,  it  was  a  sort  of  bungalow, 
where  they  camped  out.  Grandfather  says  he 
remembers  that  much.  We  don't  want  to  take  a 
lot  of  things  along,  girls,  just  enough  to  get  on 
with.  I  can  put  all  I  shall  need  into  a  couple 
of  suit  cases,  and  that  will  save  bothering  over 


"But,  Polly,  what  shall  we  do  after  we  get 
there?"  Isabel  asked,  anxiously.  "I'm  afraid  I 
don't  quite  understand.  Are  we  going  to  camp 
out?" 

"We're  going  to  do  just  what  seems  best  to  us 
after  we  arrive,"  said  Polly  cheerfully.  "The 
boys  had  a  yacht  club,  I  know,  and  if  they  had 
one  we  can  have  one.  I  want  to  go  ever  so  much, 
and  I  want  you  girls  to  go  too.  If  grandfather 
goes,  and  Aunty  Welcome,  nothing  can  happen 
to  us,  don't  you  see  it  can't?  I  suggest  that  we 
organize,  or  rather  reorganize,  right  now,  and 
start  our  first  vacation  club,  and  call  it,  call  it — " 


YACHT  CLUB  41 

"The  Squaw  Girls  of  Lost  Island,"  said  Sue 
solemnly. 

"Oh,  Sue,  don't  make  fun  of  it,"  said  Kate  re- 
proachfully as  she  leaned  forward.  "I  think  it 
will  be  splendid,  Polly.  You  can  count  me  in, 
and  I'll  bring  my  kodak  along,  too,  and  perpetu- 
ate our  memory  for  evermore." 

"Polly,"  asked  Ruth,  suddenly,  her  brows 
meeting  in  a  little  frown  of  perplexity.  "May  I 
say  something,  please?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  replied  the  chairman, 
promptly,  reaching  for  the  lemonade.  "Try 
some  of  this,  though,  before  you  get  strenu- 
ous." 

"I  only  want  to  say  that  I'm  afraid  I  can't 
go,  because—  "  Ruth  hesitated. 

"Oh,  Ruth,  you  must  go,"  cried  Polly,  anx- 
iously. She  dreaded  long  explanations.  She 
knew  that  Ruth  was  going  to  tell  right  before 
the  girls  that  it  would  cost  too  much,  and  that 
she  felt  it  her  duty  to  get  ready  for  her  kinder- 
garten training. 

Ruth  seemed  to  read  her  thought  as  their 
glance  met  across  the  table,  and  instinctively  she 
shook  her  head,  with  its  close  bands  of  brown 
braids,  bound  around  like  a  laurel  crown. 


42  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"But  we  really  need  you,  Ruth,"  persisted 
Polly.  "Kate  will  be  the  ship's  husband— 

"The  what?"  laughed  Kate.  "This  is  all  news 
to  me.  Isn't  it  just  like  Polly,  girls,  to  arrange 
all  our  destinies,  and  then  placidly  break  the  tid- 
ings to  us  at  the  last  minute." 

"Miss  Calvert  says  I  am  a  born  organizer," 
Polly  declared,  decidedly,  "and  how  on  earth  can 
one  organize  if  one  lets  every  member  have  her 
own  way?  Ruth,  you  must  go  along.  As  I 
said  before  Kate  will  be  the  ship's  husband.  I 
notice  that  no  one  present  has  the  least  idea  what 
that  means.  I  didn't  myself  until  yesterday. 
When  a  ship  is  in  port  fitting  out  for  a  cruise, 
the  ship's  husband  is  the  person  who  attends  to 
all  repairs,  and  fits  her  out  for  the  new  voyage. 
I  like  it  better  than  steward,  don't  you?  So  I 
want  Kate  to  manage  that  part  of  our  club 
business.  Keep  an  eye  on  general  supplies,  and 
profit  and  loss,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  You 
know  what  I  mean,  don't  you,  Kate?" 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  said  Kate,  saluting  with  up- 
lifted finger.  "Seems  to  me,  though,  if  I  am  to 
be  a  ship's  husband  to  a  yacht  club,  I'll  be  a 
Mormon,  won't  I  ?" 

As  the  laughter  subsided,  Polly  went  on. 


YACHT  CLUB  43 

"So  if  you  look  after  that  part  of  the  club, 
and  I  take  care  of  the  general  business,  Ruth 
ought  to  be  in  charge  of  the  bureau  of  knowl- 
edge." 

"Polly,"  exclaimed  Sue.  "Do  talk  so  we'll 
understand  you." 

"I  am,"  answered  Polly,  emphatically.  "If 
we  go  to  the  seashore,  we  shall  do  something  be- 
sides sail  boats,  and  lie  in  the  sand,  shan't  we? 
We'll  study  shells  and  seaweeds,  and  swim,  and 
fish,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Ruth  is  the  only 
one  among  us  who  has  studied  up  and  knows 
about  such  things,  and  she  could  take  charge 
of  all  that  part  of  the  vacation,  show  us 
how  to  make  collections,  and  preserve  them,  and 
so  on."  Polly  hesitated.  Out  on  the  veranda, 
behind  the  honeysuckle  vines  and  creepers,  dozed 
the  Admiral,  with  Tan  at  his  feet.  Polly  won- 
dered whether  he  had  heard  the  discussion,  and 
if  he  had,  why  he  didn't  come  to  the  rescue.  He 
always  did  when  there  was  rough  weather  or  any 
breakers  ahead. 

"Would  you  go,  Ruth,  if  you  could?" 

Ruth  weakened.  Polly's  eyes  were  eloquent, 
and  her  tone  persuasive. 

"I  should  be  very  glad  to,  Polly,"  she  replied 


44  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

quickly.     "It's   splendid  of  you   girls  to  want 
me—" 

"We  couldn't  get  along  without  you, 
Grandma,"  laughed  Ted  and  Sue  together. 
"Will  you  surely  go?" 

"Well,"  promised  Ruth.  "I  will  go  if  I  can, 
and  maybe  I  won't  be  glad  to." 

"We  need  you,"  Kate  put  in,  in  her  steady, 
serene  fashion.  "I've  never  been  to  the  shore. 
It  must  be  glorious.  The  Potomac  is  dear  to  us 
all,  of  course,  and  old  Chesapeake  seems  like  an 
ocean  in  itself,  but  I  mean  right  on  the  banks  of 
the  real  sea — " 

'  'Old  ocean's  grey  and  melancholy  waste,' ' 
quoted  Polly.     "That's  where  we're  going,  Kitty 
Katherine." 

"Neither  have  I,"  Isabel  put  in  reflectively. 
"Of  course  we've  been  to  summer  resorts,  and 
stayed  at  hotels,  papa  and  mamma  and  the  boys 
and  I,  but  I  mean  to  go  to  a  stretch  of  shore 
where  you  couldn't  find  a  single  peanut  shell,  or 
old  tin  can  around.  I  hope  there  are  great  rocks 
and  plenty  of  shells,  Polly." 

"There  will  be  along  the  Maine  coast,"  Ruth 
explained.  "When  you  get  south  of  Cape  Cod, 
you  rarely  find  beautiful  shells.  I  forget  the 


YACHT  CLUB  45 

reason  myself,  but  it  is  something  about  the  tidal 
currents.  Between  Cape  Cod  and  Cape  May, 
the  shells  are  more  common,  and  there  are  not  so 
many  washed  up  along  the  shore." 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  that  Grandma's  knowledge 
would  be  valuable,"  Polly  cried,  triumphantly. 
"Every  time  we  get  stranded  on  any  point  of  in- 
formation, we  can  appeal  to  our  Bureau,  and  find 
out  the  facts.  Crullers,  dear,  you  take  the  last 
jumble.  We'll  make  you  the  cook's  assistant, 
and  you  shall  eat  until  your  eyelashes  have  to  be 
done  up  in  curl  papers,  and  your  finger  nails 
crack." 

Crullers  smiled  at  the  prospect,  as  she  adjusted 
her  wide  brimmed,  dark  blue  sailor  hat,  with  her 
class  pin  fastened  to  the  band  in  front. 

"I  am  willing  to  help  any  way  I  can,  if  I  may 
go  with  you,"  she  said. 

"How  much  do  you  figure  it  will  cost  each  of 
us,  Polly?"  asked  Kate,  practically.  "As  ship's 
husband,  I  have  a  right  to  know." 

"Only  what  we  eat  and  possibly,  repairs  on  the 
boats,"  answered  Polly.  "Grandfather  says  he 
will  take  us  up  to  Portland  by  sea,  and  we  are  to 
be  his  guests.  From  there  we  go  by  train  to 
Eastport,  the  nearest  village,  and  then  to  the 


46  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

island  some  way.  You  figure  out  how  much  it 
will  cost  to  feed  us  all  per  week  for  eight  weeks, 
and  leave  a  margin  on  fish  and  canned  goods. 
We  can  catch  the  fish  when  we  get  there,  and 
grandfather  says  he  will  ship  a  box  of  canned 
goods  up  from  New  York." 

"I  think  the  Admiral  is  too  kind  to  us,"  pro- 
tested Ruth,  but  Polly  frowned  at  her. 

"Isn't  it  my  plan?"  she  asked.  "If  I  am  to  be 
commodore  of  a  yacht  club,  I  must  look  after 
things,  mustn't  I?  Talk  it  over  at  home,  now, 
and  meet  here  again  Tuesday,  if  you  all  can. 
We  want  to  leave  within  two  weeks,  and  less,  if 
possible." 

"I  say  the  end  of  next  week,"  said  Kate,  judi- 
ciously. "It  can  be  done,  Polly." 

"And  don't  forget  to  bring  along  the  chafing 
dish,"  added  Sue. 

Polly  walked  down  with  them  to  the  wide  en- 
trance gates,  where  Aunty  Welcome  waited,  with 
a  bouquet  of  fresh  cut  roses  for  each  girl. 

Up  on  the  veranda  the  Admiral  surveyed  the 
scene  with  a  good  deal  of  satisfaction. 

"They  make  me  think  of  a  lot  of  butterflies, 
Tan,"  he  told  the  old  setter.  "Or  flowers,  Tan, 
that's  the  best  simile,  a  garden  of  girls.  It  keeps 


YACHT  CLUB  47 

the  heart  young  just  to  listen  to  their  laughter, 
old  fellow." 

Tan  beat  his  tail  on  the  floor  gently  to  show 
he  had  caught  the  sentiment,  and  approved,  and 
the  Admiral's  face  still  wore  a  smile  of  pleasure 
when  Polly  came  up  and  dropped  into  the  chair 
beside  him. 

"How's  she  bearing  on  her  course,  matey?"  he 
asked. 

"Handsomely,  sir,  handsomely,"  laughed 
Polly.  "I  am  sure  they'll  all  go.  I  wonder  if 
they  can  sail  boats." 

"Best  find  out  before  you  start  them  off  for  a 
yacht  club,"  advised  her  grandfather.  "Don't 
ship  any  crew  on  false  premises.  You  let  them 
know  what  is  ahead  of  them  before  they  sign 
articles,  or  you'll  have  foul  weather  as  sure  as 
you're  afloat." 

"That  may  be  right,  grandfather,  dearest, 
when  you're  really  shipping  sailors,  but  when 
you're  only  taking  a  lot  of  land  lubbers,  you  have 
to  explain  things  to  them  by  degrees,  or  they'll 
run  away." 

"And  how  about  yourself?"  The  Admiral 
reached  down,  and  pulled  at  the  long,  brown 
curls  that  were  tied  loosely  at  the  nape  of  his 


48  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

shipmate's  neck.  "Does  the  commodore  of  the 
yacht  club  know  the  difference  between  a  skip 
jack  and  a  cat  boat?" 

"Maybe  she  doesn't  now,"  responded  the  com- 
modore stoutly,  "but  she  will.  Just  you  wait, 
and  see.  And  anyway,"  she  added  in  a  softer 
tone,  with  one  of  her  quick  side  glances  of  coax- 
ing merriment,  "if  she  doesn't,  she'll  have  her 
consort  handy,  right  over  on  the  hotel  veranda." 


CHAPTER  IV 

FITTING  OUT 

THE  following  week  was  filled  with  what 
Aunty  Welcome  called  "doings  and  makings." 
Every  day  found  some  of  the  girls  at  Glen- 
wood,  or  Polly  making  diplomatic  visits  around 
to  the  various  families,  winning  over  fathers  and 
mothers  to  the  project.  And  she  did  not  go  un- 
prepared, nor  unarmed.  Not  Polly.  When- 
ever Polly  took  up  a  new  plan  in  earnest,  she 
went  at  it  thoroughly,  and  gave  it  a  complete 
overhauling  before  she  accepted  it  herself.  Mrs. 
Lee  was  the  hardest  of  the  mothers  to  win  over, 
perhaps  because  Isabel  herself  viewed  Lost 
Island  rather  doubtfully. 

"Do  you  think  it  is  quite  safe,  Polly?"  asked 
Mrs.  Lee  for  the  twentieth  time,  as  Polly  sat  be- 
side her  on  the  long,  cool  veranda  at  the  Lee 
home.  "Isabel  cannot  swim  a  stroke,  and  I  am 
half  afraid  to  trust  you  girls  around  the  sea. 
Does  the  Admiral  really  approve?" 

49 


50  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Yes,  indeed,  he  does,  Mrs.  Lee.  He  says  he 
cannot  think  of  any  better  way  for  us  girls  to 
spend  vacation  after  the  winter  at  the  Hall.  It 
will  mean  the  sea  air,  and  bathing,  and  plenty 
of  exercise.  I  think  Isabel  really  needs  a 
change.  She  took  her  mathematics  quite  hard 
this  year." 

Mrs.  Lee  smiled  at  the  flushed,  eager  face 
bending  towards  her.  Twenty  years  back,  when 
she  had  been  a  girl  like  Polly,  she  could  remem- 
ber just  such  an  eager,  happy  face  at  Glen  wood, 
the  Admiral's  only  boy,  Phil,  Polly's  father. 
Even  with  four  sisters  to  spoil  him,  he  had  re- 
mained the  same  frank,  chivalrous  character  all 
his  life. 

"Polly,  you're  a  splendid  pleader,"  she  said. 
"I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  let  Isabel  go.  Shall 
you  go  by  rail  or  steamer?" 

"By  steamer,  grandfather  says.  To  New 
York,  then  to  Boston,  and  then  up  to  Maine. 
We  will  have  to  take  it  in  sections.  And  Aunty 
Welcome  is  going  with  us,  and  grandfather 
too." 

"Are  you  certain  this  island  is  suitable  for  you 
to  live  on?  Perhaps  there  is  only  a  boathouse 
there." 


YACHT  CLUB  51 

"We'll  just  have  to  wait  and  find  out,"  said 
Polly,  hopefully. 

"Have  you  figured  out  the  cost  at  all?" 
"Oh,  it  won't  be  much  over  two  dollars  a  week 
for  each  of  us,  Kate  says.  Lots  of  people  have 
house  parties,  you  know,  so  grandfather  says 
this  is  to  be  my  yacht  club  party.  As  soon  as  we 
get  there,  we  will  organize  properly,  and  see 
what  the  place  is  like.  Isn't  it  comical,"  went  on 
Polly,  with  one  of  her  swift  characteristic 
swerves  in  the  conversation,  "every  one  of  the 
girls,  Mrs.  Lee,  has  gone  at  the  plan  in  her  own 
way!  Ruth  is  designing  our  yachting  suits. 
What  do  you  think  they  are?  Dark  blue  duck, 
with  middy  blouses,  and  big  white  collars  with 
blue  anchors  on  the  corners;  and  for  best,  white 
duck  suits  with  dark  blue  collars.  We're  going 
to  take  two  kinds  of  hats  with  us:  big,  rough 
straw  sun  hats  to  wear  on  the  beach,  and  white 
duck  hats  for  yachting,  with  turned  down  brims. 
Isn't  that  a  good  idea?  Ruth's  aunt  is  a 
dressmaker,  and  offered  to  do  all  the  cutting 
and  fitting  for  us,  and  Kate  can  run  a  sewing 
machine,  so  there  we  are.  I  tell  you,  this  com- 
monwealth plan  is  a  splendid  one  when  it  comes 
to  saving  money." 


52  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Mrs.  Lee  joined  in  her  laughter,  and  asked 
about  how  much  luggage  they  were  going  to 
cariy. 

"No  trunks  at  all,"  answered  Polly.  "I  think 
we  can  manage  with  suitcases.  Two  of  the 
Seniors  we  know  at  Calvert  Hall  did  Belgium 
and  Holland  last  year  with  suitcases.  It  saves 
a  lot  of  bother  if  you  have  to  change  cars,  or 
boats,  as  we  will.  Ruth  says  she  doesn't  care 
what  she  wears.  She's  going  to  have  morning 
classes  for  the  rest  of  us,  on  shells,  and  fishes,  and 
mermaids,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  and  Kate 
has  her  kodak,  and  we're  going  to  develop  our 
own  snapshots." 

"Well,  I  suppose  Isabel  will  have  to  go,  but  I 
shall  add  as  my  contribution  to  the  outfit — life 
preservers  and  water  wings — just  to  be  sure  you 
will  be  safe." 

"Water  wings,"  thought  Polly  all  the  way 
home.  "I  wonder  what  those  are.  I'll  ask 
Ruth." 

Sue  came  down  to  Glenwood  that  afternoon, 
and  the  two  sat  on  the  box  couch  up  in  Polly's 
room,  a  "Ways  and  Means  Committee  of  two," 
so  the  Admiral  said. 

"Do  you  know,  Polly  Page,"  said  Sue,  with 


YACHT  CLUB  53 

emphasis,  "here  we  are  planning  to  start  a  yacht 
club,  and  I  never  was  even  on  a  sail  boat  in  all 
my  life.  Ted  has  been,  though.  She  says  she 
knows  how  to  sail  a  'cat,'  because  her  brother 
Bob  had  one  at  Lake  Quinnebaug  last  year,  and 
she  watched  him." 

Polly  looked  at  her  meditatively. 

"What's  a 'cat'?" 

"A  boat.  Ted  says  it's  a  boat  built  as  near 
like  a  box  as  it  can  be,  and  it  won't  sink.  I  guess 
even  if  it  happened  to  turn  turtle,  you  could 
climb  up  on  the  outside,  and  sit  there  till  things 
cleared  up  a  bit." 

Polly  broke  into  one  of  her  quick  peals  of  mer- 
riment. 

"We'd  stick  like  postage  stamps,  wouldn't  we, 
in  a  good  rolling  sea  on  the  outside  of  a  boat  like 
that.  I  want  a  thin  one,  Sue,  one  that  just  clips 
through  the  water.  The  trouble  is  that  most 
girls  are  as  afraid  of  the  water  as  cats.  Yes, 
they  are.  Why,  even  Ted  is  afraid!  She  saw 
her  brother  sail  a  boat,  but  what  does  she  know 
about  it  herself.  We  girls  won't  have  any  boys 
around  to  sail  our  boats  for  us.  We're  going  to 
learn  how  to  manage  our  own  craft,  and  it  will 
do  us  good  too.  I  had  a  letter  from  Aunt  Milly 


54  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

again.  She  says  there  are  five  good  sail  boats 
up  at  Eagle  Bay  that  the  boys  left  in  charge  of 
the  Captain,  and  they  won't  need  much  over- 
hauling this  year  because  Uncle  Thurlow  had 
them  all  repainted  and  caulked  last  spring." 

"Where  do  they  stick  the  cork?"  asked  Sue,  in- 
terestedly. 

"Goose,  caulk  the  seams,  I  mean,  put  a  kind 
of  wadding  or  interlining  between  the  seams  in 
the  hull.  And  she  says  if  we  should  need  any 
more  boats,  the  Captain  has  several  at  his  land- 
ing of  the  same  build,  and  uncle  left  word  with 
him  to  take  care  of  us.  I  don't  know  whether 
we  had  better  sail  in  pairs,  or  each  have  her  own 
boat." 

"Oh,  can't  I  sail  with  you,  Polly?" 

"You  would  do  better  with  Kate,  and  let  me 
have  Crullers." 

"She  can't  sail  one  bit." 

"No,  but  she'd  make  lovely  ballast." 

"Isabel  says  we  must  have  club  colors,"  Sue 
exclaimed,  with  one  of  her  mental  somersaults. 
"She  wants  pale  pink  and  green." 

"Too  much  like  shrimp  salad,"  said  Polly 
gravely.  "We  want  something  distinctive,  and 
yet  simple,  that  will  stand  sea  and  sunshine. 


YACHT  CLUB  55 

Let's  see,  sea  and  sunshine,  blue  and  gold.  A 
golden  sun  on  a  field  of  blue  for  a  pennant,  and 
for  club  colors,  blue  and  gold.  How  would  that 
do?" 

"I  like  that,"  assented  Sue.  "Can  I  make 
them  up,  Polly?  Let  me  take  care  of  the  colors. 
I  haven't  anything  to  do  for  the  club  specially 
as  yet.  Ted's  making  up  lists  of  rare  shells  and 
says  she'll  bring  the  marshmallows." 

"Marshmallows?"  laughed  Polly.  "What 
are  they  for?" 

"To  toast  over  a  driftwood  fire,  nights  on  the 
beach.  Ted  says  they'll  come  in  very  handy, 
when  we're  all  gathered  around  telling  stories. 
You  take  a  long  stick,  put  a  hatpin  through  one 
end,  stick  a  marshmallow  on  the  end  of  the  hat- 
pin, and  toast  it.  It's  just  like  broiled  whipped 
cream." 

"Oh,  I  know,"  Polly  leaned  her  chin  on  her 
palms,  and  spoke  confidentially,  "we're  going  to 
have  a  dandy  time,  know  it,  Sue?  Ruth  has  her 
guitar,  you,  Ted,  and  I  have  mandolins,  and 
we'll  keep  up  a  glee  club.  The  dear  old  book  of 
class  songs  went  into  my  suitcase  first  thing. 
You  just  ought  to  see  Aunty  Welcome's  outfit. 
She  has  a  medicine  chest  that  must  go  even  if 


56  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

everything  else  gets  left  behind.  Arnica,  and 
quinine,  and  ginger,  and  bandages.  Oh,  I  don't 
know  what  she  isn't  taking  along.  She  says 
she's  prepared  for  any  emergency  except  the  end 
of  the  world,  and  if  that  happens,  she'll  just  fold 
her  hands  together,  and  hope  for  the  best." 

"Maybe  it  will  all  come  in  handy.  Have  you 
thought  about  a  swimming  suit?" 

Polly  nodded. 

"Gray  flannel,"  she  replied  enigmatically. 
"Four  yards  double  width.  Short  sleeves,  low 
neck,  skirt  and  waist  joined  together,  and  bloom- 
ers. All  trimmed  up  cute  with  wash  turkey  red 
braid.  I  bought  a  pattern,  and  Aunty  Welcome 
and  I  made  it  our  own  selves.  She  says  it's  too 
pretty  to  get  all  wet.  Ruth  made  hers  too  from 
my  pattern.  Why  don't  you  buy  the  kind  of 
flannel  you  want,  and  let  her  cut  it  out  for  you, 
and  we'll  all  help." 

"Why  not  hold  a  sewing  bee,  and  get  every- 
thing all  done  up  at  once?"  Sue's  eyes  sparkled 
at  the  notion.  "I'll  tell  the  rest,  and  we'll  all 
come  over  to-morrow." 

"Go  ahead,"  agreed  Polly.  "I  don't  care,  so 
long  as  we  get  all  through  this  week.  It  won't 
be  any  fun  finding  ourselves  in  the  middle  of 


YACHT  CLUB  57 

July,  with  only  a  month  and  a  half  for  vacation." 

So  the  following  day,  the  entire  delegation 
waited  upon  its  commodore,  with  raw  materials 
for  bathing  suits  and  caps.  Polly  turned  the 
big  upper  spare  chamber  into  a  sewing-room, 
and  with  Kate  at  the  helm,  they  started  out  in 
earnest.  Ruth  cut  and  fitted,  under  Kate's  di- 
rections, and  Kate  ran  the  sewing  machine.  At 
about  four  o'clock  they  finished,  and  on  the  bed 
lay  the  rest  of  the  suits  completed. 

"That's  what  I  call  getting  swift  results  from 
good  intentions,"  said  Kate,  with  a  sigh  of  re- 
lief. "Polly,  can't  we  have  some  jumbles?" 

"Aunty's  fixing  something,  but  I  don't  know 
what  it  is,  and  I  wouldn't  dare  disturb  her  till  it's 
all  ready,"  answered  Polly.  "Come  down  into 
the  library,  and  let's  look  at  the  time-tables 
again." 

There  was  no  one  in  sight,  as  they  trooped 
down  the  broad  staircase,  and  the  library  was 
shady  and  still.  They  pored  over  time-tables  of 
steamers  and  connecting  trains  for  a  while,  and, 
as  Polly  said,  made  the  trip  twenty  times  be- 
fore they  had  started. 

"But  we  really  must  be  serious,  and  look  after 
all  these  points,"  she  added.  "We've  had  fun 


58  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

all  winter  with  the  Hungry  Six.  This  club  has 
a  real  reason  for  its  existence,  a  purpose,  and  we 
must  make  it  worth  while.  It  always  seems  to 
me  as  if  girls  could  do  so  much  better  if  they 
would  hold  hands,  and  work  in  unison — 

"Co-operate,"  suggested  Ruth. 

"Yes,  that's  just  the  right  word,"  Polly 
agreed,  earnestly.  "Boys  always  co-operate  in 
their  clubs.  They  seem  to  have  the  real  feeling 
of  fellowship.  You  know  what  I  mean,  Kate? 
Where  all  work  together  for  the  honor  and  glory 
of  the  whole,  not  just  for  yourself  as  a  member." 

"Fraulein  called  it  the  esprit  de  corps"  said 
Ruth.  "It  means  the  spirit  of  the  body,  or 
brotherliness." 

"Sisterliness,  too,"  Polly  added.  "But  it 
means  more  than  that.  It  stands  for  trueness  to 
one  another,  and  pride  in  the  honor  of  the  club, 
don't  you  know.  You  don't  do  anything  wrong-, 
and  you  don't  let  any  other  member  do  anything 
wrong,  if  you  can  keep  them  out  of  it,  for  the 
honor  of  the  club.  Anyway,  it's  what  we  girls 
want  in  our  club,  and  plenty  of  it.  Don't  you 
all  think  so?" 

Six  heads  nodded  emphatically. 

"I  think  we  should  draw  up  a  set  of  ironclad 


YACHT  CLUB  59 

rules,  and  sign  them,"  said  Ted,  solemnly. 
"Polly,  I'll  prick  my  finger  if  you  say  so,  and 
sign  with  real  red  ink." 

"You'd  better  not  make  fun  of  this,  Ted,"  pro- 
tested Sue.  "Polly's  commodore,  and  you'll 
find  yourself  blithely  walking  the  plank,  if  you 
aren't  good." 

"Indeed,  she  won't,"  said  Polly.  "I  know 
you'll  all  stand  by  me.  If  you  weren't  the 
truest,  dearest  lot  of  girls  I  ever  heard  of,  I 
wouldn't  go  to  Lost  Island  at  all." 

"Here  too,  Polly,"  echoed  Kate,  with  her  quick 
smile. 

"Three  cheers  for  Commodore  Polly!"  Ted 
stepped  up  on  a  chair,  and  waved  a  newspaper 
as  the  girls  rose,  and  joined  her. 

Just  at  this  point  the  heavy  portieres  parted, 
and  Welcome's  turbaned  head  appeared  in  the 
doorway. 

"For  de  mercy's  sake,  ain't  you  'shamed  to 
make  sech  a  hullabaloo,  and  de  Admiral  enter- 
tainin'  company." 

"Who  is  here,  Aunty?"  asked  Polly, 
cautiously. 

"Senator  Yates,"  said  Welcome.  "He  dun 
traveled  clar  down  from  de  Capitol  on  purpose, 


60  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

and  he's  talking  business.  Doan't  you  let  me 
hyar  any  sech  commotion  again.  Shoutin'  like 
you  all'd  found  a  teehee's  nest.  What  you 
s'pose  my  mammy'd  done  to  me  if  I'd  made  a 
shoutin'  noise  like  dat  when  she  had  company 
folks  'round?  If  I  hyar  any  more  of  it,  you 
can't  have  any  banana  fritters  and  whipped 
cream.  No,  sah,  not  one.  Sound  like  a  pack 
ob  geese  and  guiney  hens,  all  tied  in  a  bag." 

"Oh,  please,  Aunty,  we'll  be  good." 

Seven  pairs  of  young  arms  clasped  themselves 
around  the  tall  old  figure,  their  owners  promis- 
ing absolute  quiet,  if  only  the  banana  fritters 
would  be  forthcoming,  and  Welcome  was  hold- 
ing out  with  dignity,  when  all  at  once  the  Ad- 
miral strolled  along  the  hall  from  the  garden, 
and  with  him  was  Senator  Yates. 

"My,"  whispered  Crullers,  as  she  caught  sight 
of  them.  "I  never  saw  so  many  titles,  Polly,  as 
you  have  here  in  Virginia.  Seems  as  if  every 
one  of  you  girls  has  a  major  or  a  senator  or  a 
general  in  the  family." 

"So  dey  have,"  said  Welcome,  proudly. 
"Virginia's  wah  dey  makes  'em,  chile.  I 
wouldn't  give  two  cents  for  a  gentlemun  who 
couldn't  wear  some  kind  ob  a  uniform,  'deed  I 


YACHT  CLUB  61 

wouldn't.  I  wouldn't  take  any  stock  in  his  pre- 
tensions at  all." 

The  Senator  was  taller  than  the  Admiral,  and 
smooth-shaven.  He  was  one  of  the  youngest 
men  in  the  Senate,  and  was  a  power  in  the  Old 
Dominion.  Polly  had  seen  him  at  Glenwood 
often,  but  to  the  other  girls  he  was  a  stranger. 

"I  trust  we  are  not  intruding,  young  ladies," 
said  the  Admiral  pleasantly,  as  they  entered  the 
library.  "This  is  a  business  meeting,  isn't  it, 
Polly?  Senator  Yates  wishes  to  address  the 
club  on  a  matter  of  interest  to  you  all." 

The  Senator's  eyes  twinkled,  as  Polly  sedately 
performed  her  duty  as  hostess,  and  presented 
him  to  the  girls  in  turn. 

"I  can  tell  you  about  it  briefly,"  he  said. 
"The  Admiral  understands  the  details  fully,  and 
will  explain  them  to  you  later.  Mrs.  Yates  and 
myself  are  greatly  interested  in  your  summer 
project.  We  believe  in  outdoor  sports  for  girls 
and  boys,  and  we'd  like  to  see  our  young  girls  as 
healthy  and  rosy  as  wind  and  sun  and  fresh  air 
can  make  them.  It  happens  that  we  are  im- 
mensety  fond  of  yachting  ourselves,  although 
ours  is  only  a  steam  yacht,  and  we  miss  half  the 
fun  you  will  have  with  sailing  craft.  At  all 


62  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

events,  this  is  the  reason  for  my  errand  to  Glen- 
wood  to-day.  Saturday  we  sail  on  a  short  cruise 
up  to  Nova  Scotia,  and  around  the  coast  to  the 
mouth  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  If  you  can  get 
ready  in  time,  and  would  care  to  be  our  guests 
as  far  as  Lost  Island,  Mrs.  Yates  and  myself 
would  be  delighted  to  have  you  and  the  Admiral. 
It  is  only  a  family  party,  Mrs.  Yates,  Marbury, 
and  myself.  As  she  told  you  on  Commence- 
ment Day,  Mrs.  Yates  was  a  Calvert  Hall  girl, 
not  so  many  years  ago  but  what  she  is  interested 
in  the  old  school  still,  and  she  feels  in  extending 
this  invitation  to  you,  that  it  will  be  a  mutual  ef- 
fort at  reviving  the  school  spirit.  What  do  you 
think  of  the  plan,  Miss  Polly?" 

Polly's  dark  eyes  were  a-shine  with  surprise 
and  quick,  radiant  happiness.  She  almost 
caught  her  breath  at  the  idea. 

"I — I  think  it's  just  splendid,  Senator  Yates," 
she  cried.  "I  don't  know  how  we  girls  can  ever 
thank  you  for  your  kindness." 

"Shan't  we  be  too  much  trouble?"  asked  Ruth, 
anxiously. 

"Not  one  bit  of  trouble,"  replied  the  Senator 
heartily.  "Seven  girls  in  all,  did  you  say,  Miss 
Polly?" 


YACHT  CLUB  63 

"Yes,  sir,  seven  in  all." 

"And  do  you  think  you  can  get  ready  by  Sat- 
urday? Only  two  days  more." 

The  girls  looked  at  one  another,  a  little  per- 
plexed at  the  brief  notice,  but  Polly  waived  all 
doubts  aside. 

"We  will  be  ready,"  she  said,  positively.  "We 
must." 

"I  will  send  the  motor  boat  up  the  river  after 
you  at  seven  in  the  morning,"  continued  the  Sen- 
ator. "The  Hippocampus  weighs  anchor  at 
eight.  You  had  better  make  your  arrangements 
to  meet  here  at  Glenwood,  and  go  aboard  at  the 
Admiral's  landing.  It  will  save  time.  And  I 
am  very,  very  glad  that  I  am  able  to  take  back 
the  news  of  your  acceptance  to  Mrs.  Yates." 

When  they  were  alone  once  more,  Polly  sank 
down  in  a  Morris  chair,  and  smiled  blissfully. 

"Girls,  have  you  ever  seen  the  Hippo- 
campus?33 she  asked. 

"It's  a  steam  yacht,  isn't  it?"  said  Sue,  while 
the  rest  listened  eagerly. 

"It's  a  dream  afloat,"  said  Polly,  solemnly. 
"All  shining  brass,  with  a  white  hull,  and  silk 
curtains — silk  curtains  at  the  cabin  windows, 
children — and  tufted  leather  walls,  and — " 


64  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Ted  perched  herself  on  the  window-seat,  and 
sang  softly,  with  a  comical  lisp, 

"I  saw  a  ship  a-sailing,  a-sailing  on  the  sea, 
And  it  was  filled  with  pretty  things,  for  Polly  and  for  me. 
There  were  raisins  in  the  cabin,  sugar  kisses  in  the  hold, 
The  sails  were  made  of  silk,  and  the  masts  were  made  of 
gold." 

"Goose,"  exclaimed  Polly,  tossing  a  sofa  pil- 
low at  the  scoffer.  "Wait  until  you  see  it." 

"There's  one  thing  certain,"  said  Ruth,  "we 
shall  appreciate  our  own  little  flotilla  all  the 
more,  when  we  have  seen  this  queen  of  the  seas. 
I  think  we  should  send  Mrs.  Yates  a  united  vote 
of  thanks." 

"I'll  do  it,"  Polly  declared,  reaching  for  note 
paper  at  once.  "I'll  do  it  now." 

Aunty  Welcome  put  her  head  in  at  the  door. 

"Anybody  h)rar  want  banana  fritters,  an' 
whipped  cream?" 

The  meeting  was  broken  up  instantly,  and  the 
girls  followed  Welcome  out  to  the  arbor  where 
the  feast  was  spread.  But  Polly  lingered  until 
she  had  written  the  note  of  thanks  to  Mrs.  Yates, 
and  when  it  was  completed  she  went  to  find  the 
Admiral  and  get  his  opinion. 


SYACHT  CLUB  65 

"Is  that  right,  grandfather?"  she  asked,  with 
one  arm  around  his  shoulders,  as  she  knelt  beside 
him  at  his  desk. 

"Seems  to  be  all  shipshape,"  answered  the  Ad- 
miral, heartily.  He  smoothed  Polly's  head 
tenderly.  "How  is  the  Naval  Board  of  Special 
Inquiry?" 

"Eating  banana  fritters,  sir,"  whispered 
Polly.  "We're  going  to  sail  Saturday  morning 
sure." 


CHAPTER  V 

ON  BOARD  THE  "HIPPOCAMPUS" 

THE  morning  of  the  sailing  came  quickly,  it 
seemed  to  the  little  band  of  voyagers.  Polly 
was  up,  and  fully  dressed  by  five,  making  her 
final  arrangements,  and  the  Admiral  was  "on 
lookout,"  as  he  said,  with  Aunty  Welcome's 
nephew,  Stoney,  carrying  the  luggage  down 
from  the  house  to  the  boat-landing. 

When  the  girls  began  to  arrive,  Polly  was 
busy  pinning  and  hooking  Aunty  Welcome's  col- 
lar and  belt  at  the  last  minute,  and  it  was  a  labor 
of  love. 

"Don't  squoze  me,  honey,  don't  squoze  me  a 
particle,"  cautioned  Aunty,  puffing  over  the  un- 
usual exertion.  "  'Deed,  I  feel  as  if  I  had  de 
equator  twined  around  me  now.  Whar's  dat  big 
palm  leaf  fan?  Stonewall!  You,  Stonewall 
Jackson  U.  S.  Grant  Brown,  you  bring  me  dat 
fan  instanter,  sah,  hyar  me?" 

Stoney  grinned,  and  slipped  off  the  Admiral's 

66 


YACHT  CLUB  67 

steamer  trunk  with  the  fan.  Stoney  was  proud 
of  his  name.  Aunty  had  been  strictly  neutral 
during  the  war,  and  when  Stoney  had  been 
born,  she  had  been  his  sponsor,  and  had  perpet- 
uated her  neutrality  in  his  name,  with  a  slight 
leaning  towards  the  South. 

"You  had  better  go  ahead  with  the  trunk  now, 
Stoney,"  Polly  told  him.  "Here  come  the  girls. 
You  go  too,  Aunty,  and  that  will  give  you  a 
chance  to  rest  in  the  launch  a  minute." 

"Ain't  you  most  ready,  you'  own  self,  chile?" 

"All  ready,"  laughed  Polly,  as  she  took  her 
long  gray  cloak  over  her  arm,  and  her  mandolin 
case.  "I  want  to  say  good-by  to  Mandy  and 
the  rest." 

So  while  Stoney  and  the  others  trudged  ahead 
down  the  path  that  led  to  the  little  landing  by 
the  riverside,  Polly  ran  to  the  kitchen,  and 
kissed  the  black,  shiny  cheek  of  old  Aunt  Mandy, 
the  housekeeper,  and  shook  Uncle  Peter's  hand. 

"Keep  out  of  deep  water,  honey  lam'  chile," 
cautioned  Mandy,  the  tears  running  down  her 
cheeks  fast.  "And  may  de  good  Lord  hoi'  you 
in  de  holler  of  his  hand  safe  from  de  fury  of 
tempest,  and  leviathan,  and — and  cramps  when 
you's  in  swimmin'." 


68 

"Amen,  praise  de  Lord,  oh,  mah  soul,"  added 
Uncle  Peter,  fervently,  and  Polly  went  out  into 
the  garden,  with  her  own  lashes  wet  with  tears, 
for  they  had  been  kind  to  her  ever  since  she 
could  remember  toddling  to  Mandy  after  raisins 
and  sticks  of  cinnamon. 

As  Polly  left  the  kitchen,  she  saw  the  other 
girls  coming  up  the  broad  walk  from  the  gates, 
with  suitcases,  wraps  and  parasols,  for  the  morn- 
ing was  a  still,  close  one,  and  the  latent  heat  of  the 
day  seemed  to  lie  about  the  horizon  in  a  golden 
haze. 

The  motor  launch  was  waiting  for  them  when 
they  reached  the  landing.  A  sailor  in  white 
duck,  with  the  name  Hippocampus  in  gold  let- 
ters on  his  cap,  stood  on  the  little  dock,  and  the 
Admiral  assisted  them  on  board. 

"  'Deed,  Marse  Bob,"  Aunty  Welcome  pro- 
tested, as  she  hesitated  to  take  the  step  into  the 
launch.  '  'Deed,  I  know  I'll  swamp  you,  I 
know  it.  I  don't  trust  dat  lil  toy  boat  no  more'n 
I  would  a  tea  tray.  Nevah  see  sech  a  shiny  lil 
baby  boat  in  mah  life.  Well,  for  mercy  sakes,  if 
I  ain't  in  it  all  safe." 

And  she  laughed  till  Polly  warned  her  she 


YACHT  CLUB  69 

would  surely  burst  the  equator,  as  she  settled 
down  in  the  stern  of  the  little  launch,  and  they 
left  the  landing  for  the  open  river. 

The  girls  said  very  little.  With  flushed 
cheeks,  and  eager,  sparkling  eyes  they  were  too 
much  engaged  in  watching  all  the  new  sights 
that  unfolded  as  the  launch  sped  along.  On  one 
side  were  the  hills  of  Virginia,  gray  green  in  the 
morning  light  like  grass  with  the  dew  on  it. 
Dense  patches  of  wild  rice  glimmered  through 
the  morning  haze  to  the  left.  About  a  mile  down 
the  river  lay  the  Hippocampus,  spotless  and 
silent,  like  a  water  lily  on  the  river's  surface. 
None  of  the  girls  had  ever  been  on  a  steam  yacht 
before.  They  watched  this  one  with  eager  in- 
terest as  they  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  it. 
Everything  on  board  was  quiet.  A  gaily  striped 
awning  was  spread  up  forward.  The  pennon 
of  the  Chesapeake  Yacht  Club,  of  which  the 
Senator  was  a  member,  fluttered  lightly  from  the 
mast  head,  in  the  gentle  breeze.  As  the  launch 
came  alongside,  the  Senator  himself,  in  white 
flannels,  appeared  on  deck,  and  greeted  them 
warmly. 

"I  thought  you  always  had  to  climb  a  ladder 


70  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

of  rope,  when  you  went  over  a  ship's  side," 
whispered  Sue  to  Polly,  as  she  saw  the  neat 
gangway  of  steps  that  led  easily  from  the  launch 
to  the  deck  of  the  yacht.  "This  is  much  better, 
isn't  it?" 

"Indeed  it  is,"  smiled  back  Polly,  holding  to 
her  cap,  as  the  wind  blew  freshly  up  the  river 
from  the  bay.  "Did  you  notice  the  figure- 
head?" 

It  was  turned  fairly  to  them,  so  they  had  a 
good  view  of  the  prow  with  its  figure-head,  a 
great  golden  sea-horse,  curving  proudly  up  from 
the  waves. 

"But  it's  head  looks  like  a  dragon's  instead  of 
a  horse's.  I  wonder  how  they  travel  through  the 
water?"  asked  Ted. 

"Just  as  easily  as  a  jelly  fish,"  laughed  Polly. 
"They  don't  seem  to  help  themselves  at  all,  just 
go  along  with  their  heads  held  up  high,  as  if 
they  thought  they  owned  the  whole  ocean.  And 
they  are  such  tiny  things,  that  it  seems  comical. 
Think  if  a  sea  horse  and  a  sea  cow  were  to  get 
into  a  quarrel.  A  sea  cow  could  eat  a  peck  of 
sea  horses  at  one  gulp,  and  then  ask  for  some 
dessert."  And  Polly  added  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment: 


YACHT  CLUB  71 

"Whenever  you  see 

A  Manistee, 

A  Hippocampus  said  to  me. 
Be  sure  and  treat, 

Her  awful  sweet, 
Or  she'll  gobble  you  up,  from  head  to  feet." 

Polly  repeated  the  lines  sedately,  but  her  eyes 
were  brimful  of  fun,  as  she  stepped  from  the 
launch,  and  followed  Ruth  up  the  brass  railed 
gangway.  The  latter  had  rubber-padded  steps 
to  prevent  feet  slipping. 

It  took  the  united  efforts  of  the  Admiral  and 
two  sailors  to  get  Aunty  Welcome  up  that  nar- 
row flight,  but  they  succeeded.  Mrs.  Yates  was 
awaiting  their  coming,  forward  beneath  the  awn- 
ing. 

"I  am  so  very,  very  glad  to  have  you  with  us," 
she  said  cordially,  as  she  clasped  each  girl's  hand 
in  hers,  and  smiled  at  their  happy  faces.  "Both 
the  Senator  and  myself  feel  indebted  to  you  all 
for  consenting  to  be  our  guests  as  far  as  Maine. 
This  is  Aunty  Welcome,  isn't  it?"  She  turned 
to  a  broad-shouldered  lad  beside  her.  "Mar- 
bury,  won't  you  take  Aunty  into  the  cabin  and 
introduce  her  to  Dido,  so  that  she  will  feel  at 
home?" 


72  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Marbury  obeyed,  willingly,  for  under  the 
united  fire  of  seven  pairs  of  eyes,  he  began  to  feel 
somewhat  uneasy.  In  the  door  of  the  forward 
cabin  stood  the  stewardess,  Dido,  bowing  and 
smiling  broadly,  in  her  snowy  dress  of  white 
linen,  with  a  white  cap  on  her  head,  and  Aunty 
Welcome  was  glad  enough  to  find  a  kindred 
spirit. 

A  cabin  boy  carried  the  suitcases  and  various 
wraps  away  and  the  girls  seated  themselves  in  the 
cosy  wicker-chairs  under  the  wide  awning,  and 
tried  to  think  it  was  not  all  a  dream. 

All  about  them  lay  the  beautiful  river,  broad- 
ening out  as  it  approached  Chesapeake  Bay. 
To  the  east  the  water  glittered  like  quicksilver 
under  the  sun's  rays,  and  gulls  darted  back  and 
forth  with  graceful,  wide  spread  wings.  Some- 
times they  rested  on  the  water  and  rocked  lazily 
to  and  fro  like  wild  ducks.  Standing  on  one  leg 
on  a  stretch  of  marshy  land,  where  the  wild  rice 
grew  thickly,  a  sleepy  crane  watched  them  weigh 
anchor.  The  yacht  hardly  made  any  more  ef- 
fort about  it  than  the  little  motor  launch  had, 
and  before  the  girls  realized  they  had  started, 
they  heard  the  signal  bells  and  felt  the  gentle 
vibration  of  the  engines. 


YACHT  CLUB  73 

Ruth  touched  Polly's  hand  lightly  with  her 
own,  as  it  lay  on  the  arm  of  her  chair.  Her  face 
was  turned  seaward,  and  her  chin  was  uplifted, 
as  if  she  were  drinking  in  the  delicious  air. 
There  was  a  faint  glow  in  her  cheeks,  and  a  smile 
on  her  lips. 

Tony,  the  cabin  boy,  came  back,  and  deftly 
spread  a  square  of  snowy  linen  on  the  green 
wicker  table,  then  returned,  bearing  a  huge  tray 
laden  with  iced  chocolate,  strawberries  served  on 
crisp  lettuce-leaves  like  eggs  in  a  nest,  but- 
tered waffles,  broiled  fresh  mackerel  under  a 
silver  cover,  and  lyonnaise  potatoes. 

"The  Senator  and  Admiral  will  take  their 
breakfast  below  together,"  Mrs.  Yates  said.  "I 
thought  perhaps  you  girls  would  enjoy  it  better 
on  deck,  as  the  view  down  the  river  is  beautiful 
at  this  hour  of  the  morning.  Polly,  you  may 
serve  in  the  Senator's  place,  while  I  pour  the 
chocolate." 

That  was  a  memorable  morning  for  the  girls. 
Polly  said  in  her  impulsive  way : 

"Here  we  had  expected  to  'rough  it,'  as  the 
boys  say,  camp  out,  and  learn  how  to  sail  boats, 
and  do  our  own  cooking  on  a  deserted  island, 
and  just  look  at  this.  I  declare  it's  enough  to 


74  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

spoil  us  for  the  island  camp.  Who  would  want 
to  bother  over  sails  and  rudders,  and  jibs  and 
booms,  and  things,  when  you  can  manage  the 
whole  ship  this  way,  just  by  touching  an  electric 
button." 

"Where's  the  button,  Polly?"  asked  Crullers, 
dreamily.  "I  didn't  see  any  button." 

"There  are  a  whole  row  of  them  up  in  the  pilot 
house,"  Polly  returned.  "I  saw  them  as  we  came 
past.  But  still,"  with  a  wave  of  loyalty  towards 
the  unknown  island  and  its  yacht  club,  "I  think 
I  would  rather  have  to  fight  my  way  against  the 
waves.  It  must  be  glorious  to  feel  like  that  gull 
over  there,  as  if  you  had  wide  spread  wings  and 
were  flying  low  before  a  gale." 

"Just  wait  till  Polly  tries  it,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Yates.  "It  sounds  so  much  easier  than  it  really 
is.  I  remember  my  first  yachting  experience 
when  I  was  your  age,  Polly.  My  father  bought 
a  winter  bungalow  on  the  Carolina  coast,  not  far 
from  Charleston,  and  it  was  my  first  winter  in  a 
warm  climate.  I  had  three  big  brothers,  and  the 
dearest  possession  they  owned  in  common  was  a 
sailboat  that  they  built  themselves.  I  think  they 
used  to  call  it  a  knockabout,  and  the  name  of  it 
was  the  Say  When" 


YACHT  CLUB  75 

"Isn't  that  a  dear  name  for  a  boat?"  cried 
Polly. 

"We  went  out  one  day  in  it,  and  were  running 
along  with  a  beam  wind  on  a  smooth  sea,  when 
all  at  once  a  puff  of  wind  hit  us,  and  before  the 
boys  could  start  the  sail,  to  jam  her  down,  she 
was  over  on  one  side,  and  we  all  scrambled  up 
on  the  planking,  to  windward,  and  hung  on  un- 
til the  squall  was  over,  when  she  righted  herself, 
but  we  bailed  out  over  thirty  buckets  of  salt 
water." 

"I  hope  we  shan't  have  any  such  accident  at 
Lost  Island,"  said  Polly.  "Won't  a  yacht  sink, 
Mrs.  Yates?" 

"I  cannot  answer  that  positively,  but  I  hardly 
think  one  will.  Its  canvas  and  the  shape  of 
the  hull  too,  I  believe,  usually  buoy  it  up;  while 
a  heavy  boat  that  carries  machinery  will  sink 
quickly.  By  the  way,  have  you  thought  to  bring 
any  buoys  or  life  preservers?" 

"We  have  some  water  wings  and  life  preserv- 
ers that  Mrs.  Lee  gave  us,  so  we  shan't  sink 
when  we're  learning  to  swim,"  said  Sue  hope- 
fully. 

"And  Aunt  Milly  says  there  is  a  life-saving 
station  only  a  mile  and  a  half  up  the  beach,  and 


76  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

they  have  a  coast-guard  service  that  passes 
within  hail  of  us  through  the  night.  I  think 
we'll  be  safe." 

Mrs.  Yates  smiled  at  Polly's  assured  tone. 

"I  should  feel  pretty  confident  myself  with 
such  protection  close  by,"  she  said.  "Still  it  is 
just  as  well  for  you  to  take  precautions  yourself, 
in  case  of  sudden  danger.  Go  down  to  the  sta- 
tion as  soon  as  you  conveniently  can,  after  you 
are  settled,  and  watch  them  at  their  drill." 

"You  mean  in  giving  first  aid  to  the  injured?" 
Ruth  asked. 

"Yes,  and  in  learning  how  to  behave  in  case 
of  a  boat's  capsizing,  or  if  one  of  you  should  fall 
overboard.  You  want  to  know  how  to  act  to 
help  yourselves.  How  many  in  the  club  can 
swim?" 

Polly  glanced  around  and  took  stock  of  her 
crew. 

"Ted  and  Kate  and  myself." 

"I've  only  tried  swimming  in  fresh  water," 
said  Ted. 

"You  will  find  salt  water  easier.  It  is  buoy- 
ant, and  invigorating.  But  don't  be  venture- 
some or  foolhardy  in  strange  waters.  Have  you 


YACHT  CLUB  77 

any  idea  of  taking  up  a  course  of  summer 
study?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  cried  Ruth.  "Every  morning  we 
shall  have  regular  class  work,  and  I  am  teacher. 
I  brought  several  books  with  me,  Mrs.  Yates,  but 
do  you  know,  they  all  seem  so  far  advanced  for 
beginners.  I  mean,  they  take  it  for  granted  that 
the  reader  knows  all  about  shell  life,  and  sea 
flora,  and  they  talk  about  it  all  so  scientifically, 
arranging  them  in  groups,  and  using  the  Latin 
names.  I  wish  I  could  find  a  book  telling  the 
intimate  family  side  of  beach  life.  I'd  like  to 
be  on  real  friendly  terms  with  every  starfish 
and  crab  I  meet,  not  just  have  a  bowing  ac- 
quaintance, and  say,  'Ah,  good  morning,  Mon- 
sieur Crustacean,  are  you  a  king  crab,  or  a  her- 
mit?' " 

Everyone  laughed,  even  Marbury,  who  had 
come  on  deck  after  breakfasting  below  with  his 
father  and  the  Admiral.  The  girls  had  finished 
also,  and  Mrs.  Yates  suggested  that  Marbury 
show  them  over  the  yacht. 

"Come  back  to  me  when  you  have  seen  every- 
thing you  care  to,"  she  told  them  before  they  left 
her,  "and  I  will  show  you  my  sea-going  library 


78  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

and  my  collection  of  ocean  treasures.  I  started 
them  both  years  ago,  when  Marbury  was  a  baby, 
and  we  took  our  first  ocean  voyage.  It  may  help 
you  in  forming  collections  of  your  own,  and  in 
trying  to  classify  them." 

Marbury  and  Polly  led  the  way  over  the  yacht. 
It  was  as  large  as  the  revenue  cutter  they  met 
coining  up  the  bay,  and  quite  as  smart  in  its 
white  and  gold  hull,  and  clean-cut  smoke-stack 
and  rigging,  outlined  against  the  cloudless  sky. 
The  forward  cabin  was  the  Senator's  special  do- 
main. Walls,  lockers,  and  chairs  all  were  cov- 
ered with  buff  leather,  and  it  was  fitted  with  a 
broad  center  table,  and  desk,  with  wall  brackets 
supporting  cabinets  containing  all  manner  of 
ocean  curios.  The  dining-room  was  next  to  it, 
although  there  was  a  smaller  one  below  used  for 
breakfast  by  the  Senator.  The  main  cabin 
was  a  delight  to  the  girls.  Ten  staterooms 
opened  off  it,  and  they  were  not  like  the  little, 
narrow  "cubby-holes"  generally  found  on  steam- 
ers. Daintily  furnished  little  rooms,  with  loung- 
ing chairs  and  couches  of  willow,  covered  with 
apple  green  chintz  sprayed  with  pink  blossoms. 
Curtains  of  the  same  were  looped  back  from  the 


YACHT  CLUB  79 

white  berths.  Four  of  these  rooms  were  given 
up  to  the  girls,  and  they  "paired  off"  accord- 
ingly. Polly  and  Crullers  took  one,  Sue  and 
Ted  another,  Isabel  and  Ruth  a  third,  and  Kate 
was  all  alone  in  the  fourth,  as  befitted  the 
chaperon  of  the  party. 

"Polly,"  asked  Mrs.  Yates,  after  dinner  that 
evening,  "didn't  I  notice  a  mandolin  with  your 
luggage?" 

"Yes'm,"  answered  Polly,  who  in  spite  of  her 
"nearly  fifteen"  years,  still  clung  to  the  old-fash- 
ioned mode  of  speaking  to  a  person  older  than 
herself.  "We  girls  have  a  glee  club  of  our  own. 
Sue,  and  Ted,  and  Ruth,  and  myself.  Ruth 
plays  the  guitar,  and  the  rest  of  us  mandolins.  I 
thought  it  would  be  fun  to  take  them  along  and 
play  nights  when  we  felt  lonely." 

"I  hope  you  will  feel  lonely  to-morrow  night 
then,"  Mrs.  Yates  replied,  smiling.  "I  won't 
ask  you  to  play  to-night,  for  you  must  be  tired, 
but  to-morrow  evening  we  will  have  a  concert. 
I  dearly  love  the  sound  of  music  on  the  water, 
and  so  does  the  Senator.  We  have  a  piano  on 
board,  you  know,  and  Marbury  has  his  banjo, 
although  I  tell  him  it  always  makes  me  think  of 


80  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

the  old  riddle  'what  makes  more  noise  than  a 
pig  going  under  a  gate?'  You  know  the  an- 
swer." 

The  girls  laughed,  all  except  Crullers,  who 
puzzled  and  pondered  over  the  riddle  all  the  rest 
of  the  evening.  Crullers  always  pondered  over 
anything  she  could  not  see  through.  That  night, 
when  they  had  retired  to  their  berths,  and  only 
the  light  from  the  cabin  shone  in  the  state-room 
over  the  doorway,  Polly  heard  a  sleepy  voice 
across  the  room  say, 

"Polly,  I  know.     Two  pigs!" 

Polly  sat  upright  in  bed,  and  threw  a  pillow 
with  telling  force  at  the  figure  in  the  other  berth, 
but  there  was  only  a  stifled  giggle  in  answer,  and 
she  cuddled  down  under  the  blanket,  and  fell 
asleep. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THREE  DAYS   AT   SEA 

THE  three  days  out  at  sea  passed  all  too 
quickly.  The  weather  kept  clear  and  cool  up  the 
coast,  and  the  nights  were  perfect.  In  spite  of 
Crullers'  unwillingness  to  rise  early,  the  other 
girls  were  on  deck  at  sunrise  the  first  morning, 
and  were  rewarded  by  an  invitation  to  the  bridge 
with  the  Captain  and  Senator  Yates.  Polly 
made  friends  with  the  Captain  at  once. 

"His  name  is  Captain  Sandy  Saunders,"  she 
told  the  girls.  "And  he  sailed  first  of  all  from 
the  Hebrides,  he  told  me,  when  he  was  a  bit  of 
a  laddie." 

As  Kate  had  remarked  teasingly,  Polly  had  a 
terrible  weakness  towards  panhandle  names,  just 
the  same  as  Aunty  Welcome,  and  this  was  really 
a  very  interesting  Captain. 

"He  looks  quite  a  good  deal  like  a  moon  fish," 
said  Ruth,  thoughtfully,  the  first  time  she  had 
seen  him.  "They  are  found  in  West  Indian 

81 


82  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

waters,  girls,  and  look  just  like  decapitated 
pirates,  round,  and  pink-faced,  with  little  round 
mouths  and  round  eyes,  and  a  tuft  of  fin  like 
hair  on  top." 

"I  don't  think  that  is  one  bit  complimentary, 
Ruth,"  Polly  had  declared,  indignantly.  "My 
captain  doesn't  look  like  a  decapitated  pirate." 

And  yet  the  next  time  she  glanced  up  at  the 
pilot  house,  and  saw  the  captain  standing  beside 
the  wheelsman,  she  had  to  smile.  He  wore  a 
blue  coat,  with  brass  buttons,  tight  to  his  neck, 
and  a  high  white  collar,  and  white  duck  trousers, 
with  a  stripe  up  the  sides.  And  his  face  was 
round,  and  smooth  shaven,  and  very  sunburned, 
with  round  eyes,  so  blue  that  they  seemed  like 
glass  marbles.  But  before  that  first  day  was 
over,  Polly  and  he  were  firm  friends  and  ship- 
mates. 

The  Admiral  did  not  rise  until  six  o'clock.  As 
he  had  remarked  the  night  before,  he  had  watched 
the  sun  rise  from  nearly  every  body  of  salt  water 
on  the  globe,  and  now  he  was  convinced  that  it 
could  get  up  without  his  help,  and  he  needed 
his  beauty  sleep  badly. 

To  the  girls,  it  was  a  wonderful  sight,  that 
first  sunrise.  The  clouds  turned  to  flakes  of 


YACHT  CLUB  83 

radiant  gold  and  rose  and  violet,  shot  through 
and  through  with  silver  lights.  When  the  sun 
rose  over  the  horizon  line,  every  wavelet  caught 
its  glory  in  miniature,  and  the  whole  wide  sea 
looked  like  "gloryland,"  as  Aunty  Welcome 
said.  Isabel  leaned  over  the  rail  at  the  stern, 
looking  out  at  the  widening  wake  of  pearly  foam, 
that  glittered  and  sparkled  like  countless  dia- 
monds in  the  sunshine. 

"I  wonder  whether  that  isn't  what  makes  the 
pink  tint  inside  sea  shells,"  she  said  musingly  to 
Kate.  "Maybe  they  caught  some  of  the  color 
and  imprisoned  it." 

Polly  came  hurrying  along  deck,  her  cheeks 
aglow,  her  cap  on  the  back  of  her  head,  and 
hands  deep  in  her  reefer  pockets,  for  the  early 
mornings  were  cool. 

"Girls,  there's  a  school  of  porpoises  moving 
off  shore,"  she  called,  excitedly.  "You  can  see 
them  around  the  prow  plainly." 

They  hurried  after  her,  and  reached  the  ex- 
treme point  of  the  prow,  beyond  the  neat  coils 
of  rope  and  the  capstan. 

Polly  laughed  over  the  latter. 

"I  used  to  call  that  the  captain,"  she  said. 
"There  was  a  song  grandfather  sang  to  me, 


84 

something  about  'We'll  heave  the  capstan  round, 
my  boys,'  and  I  always  said,  'We'll  heave  the 
captain  round,  my  boys.'  I  remember  he  told 
me  such  things  never  happened  on  well-regulated 
ships." 

"Well,  forevermore,  girls,"  exclaimed  Sue,  as 
she  leaned  over  the  prow,  until  she  could  have 
reached  down  and  touched  the  gilded  crest  of  the 
Hippocampus  itself.  "There  are  a  lot  down 
there,  and  they're  going  as  fast  as  we  are!" 

It  was  strange  to  watch  them.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  dozen  or  more,  about  three  or  four  feet 
long,  and  as  they  played  and  frolicked  in  the 
leaping  spray  from  the  cutwater,  they  would  roll 
and  toss  and  turn  half  over  like  kittens.  Under- 
neath, their  bodies  were  a  deep  shell-pink,  and 
the  rest  was  brownish-green. 

While  they  were  watching  them,  Marbury 
came  along  deck  holding  something  in  his  hand. 

"One  of  the  sailors  found  it  back  there  on  the 
aft  deck  while  he  was  swabbing  it  just  now,"  he 
caUed.  "It's  a  flying  fish." 

The  girls  examined  it  with  eager  interest,  pull- 
ing out  the  delicate,  bat-like  wings  that  folded 
close  to  its  sides,  just  like  a  junk  boat's  sails,  as 
Polly  said.  Then  they  had  the  fun  of  letting  it 


YACHT  CLUB  85 

go  over  the  side  of  the  boat,  and  it  sank  out  of 
sight. 

"But  it's  half  dead  now,"  said  Marbury. 
"There's  not  much  use  in  putting  it  back." 

"Yes,  there  is,"  answered  Polly,  cheerfully. 
"It  will  have  the  fun  of  telling  all  the  other  fish 
its  wonderful  adventure,  and  will  die  happy.  I 
can  see  a  ridge  of  land  way  off  there  to  the  west, 
can't  you?" 

"Barnegat,  and  the  Jersey  coast,  I  think," 
Marbury  told  her.  "There's  bully  yachting  all 
along  there,  on  account  of  the  inlets.  I  camped 
out  near  Cape  May  one  summer  with  a  crowd 
of  boys  from  the  naval  'Prep.,'  and  we  had  fine 
fishing  and  sailing.  The  beaches  are  long  and 
shallow.  .Up  in  Maine  you'll  find  them  short 
with  plenty  of  rocks." 

"Short  around  where  the  rocks  are,  you  mean," 
said  Ruth.  "There  are  long,  flat  reaches  of 
sand  up  there,  too." 

"Anyway,  we  like  rocks,"  put  in  Polly,  com- 
fortably. "I  don't  think  a  long,  shallow  beach 
is  good  for  yachting.  Where  are  you  at  low 
tide?  Up  in  the  sand  somewhere.  And  where 
are  you  at  high  tide?  Swamped." 

Marbury  laughed  at  her,  heartily.     He  was  a 


86  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

tall,  stalwart  naval  cadet  of  nineteen,  with  the 
Senator's  own  merry  eyes  and  quick  gift  of  un- 
derstanding. 

"That  makes  me  think  of  one  of  father's 
stories,"  he  said.  "Uncle  Joe,  an  old  darkey 
down  home,  used  to  say  he'd  a  heap  rather  be 
killed  on  land  than  on  water,  '  'case  if  dey's  an 
accident  on  land,  why,  dar  you  is,  and  if  dey's  a 
blow-up  in  de  middle  ob  de  ocean,  whar  is 
you?' " 

"I  don't  care,"  persisted  Polly,  even  while  she 
laughed  at  the  story  with  the  others.  "Most 
people  are  afraid  of  rocks  when  they're  boating, 
but  rocks  won't  hurt  you  if  you  know  how  to 
manage  them.  I'd  rather  have  rocks  along  shore 
with  some  water  around  them,  deep  enough  to 
let  a  three-foot  draft  boat  slip  in,  than  half  a  mile 
of  wet  sand  to  climb  over  after  you've  anchored." 

"You  won't  get  any  three-foot  draft  on  a  cat- 
boat  unless  your  centerboard's  down,"  Ted  said. 
"I  know  because  I've  heard  my  brothers  tell 
about  theirs.  It  hasn't  any  more  keel  than  a 
washbowl.  I  like  a  'cat'  myself,  because  you  jam 
her  down  against  the  wind,  °;iid  lie  back  and  rest. 
In  a  yawl  or  knockabout,  ^bu  have  to  change 


YACHT  CLUB  87 

around,  and  shift  about,  and  fuss  every  time  you 
tack.  I  don't  think  that's  any  fun." 

Polly's  brown  eyes  sparkled,  and  she  stuck  her 
hands  deep  in  her  reefer  pockets,  and  looked  out 
at  the  wide  ocean  as  if  she  wanted  to  clasp  hands 
with  it. 

"I  do,"  she  said.  "I'd  like  to  have  a  boat  that 
was  nearly  all  sail,  and  just  me  sitting  on  a 
plank.  I  love  to  feel  the  wind  in  my  face,  and 
reach  out  to  it.  A  catboat's  a  regular  tub." 

"No,  it  isn't,  Polly,  truly,"  Ted  protested. 
"There's  a  picture  in  my  Tennyson  of  the  pass- 
ing of  Arthur,  and  the  three  queens  came  after 
him  in  a  catboat.  You  can  tell  it  is  just  a  cat- 
boat  by  looking  at  it." 

Everyone  laughed,  but  Ted  stood  her  ground 
sturdily. 

"Not  a  catboat,  goose,"  explained  Ruth,  mer- 
rily. "It  must  have  been  a  'shallop  flitting, 
silken  sailed,  skimming  down  to  Camelot.' ' 

"There,"  cried  Sue.  "I've  been  wanting  a 
boat  all  along,  that  would  be  different  from  those 
the  other  girls  sail,  and  now  I  have  it.  My  boat 
shall  be  the  only  unique  one  in  the  yacht  club. 
I  shall  get  me  a  shallop." 


88  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

They  trooped  in  to  breakfast  with  rosy  cheeks 
and  laughing  lips.  Mrs.  Yates  was  awaiting 
.them.  -The  Admiral  and  she  were  talking  over 
old  Virginia  days,  and  the  girls  were  glad  to 
listen  to  some  of  those  tales  of  long  ago,  while 
they  partook  of  deliciously-fried  scallops,  crisp 
bacon  on  toast  triangles,  corn  fritters,  and  fried 
sweet  potatoes,  served  as  only  the  Senator's  plan- 
tation cook  could  serve  them. 

After  breakfast,  Ruth  said  that  Kate  and  she 
were  going  into  the  cabin  to  study  Mrs.  Yates's 
sea  library  and  collections. 

"We'll  all  go,"  proclaimed  Polly  at  once.  "It 
will  never  do  to  let  these  two  know  so  much  more 
than  the  rest  of  us." 

So  all  the  forenoon  they  pored  over  the  pressed 
seaweed  folios,  excepting  the  hour  for  morning 
service,  when  the  Senator  called  all  hands  into 
the  cabin  and  read  the  dear,  familiar  words  they 
all  loved. 

After  dinner  they  went  back  to  the  collections 
and  the  library,  and  this  time  Mrs.  Yates  her- 
self joined  them,  and  explained  many  things 
they  did  not  know  about.  Besides  the  seaweed 
folios,  there  were  glass  cases  hanging  against 
the  walls,  containing  shells  and  all  manner  of 


YACHT  CLUB  89 

sea  curiosities.  Ruth  was  in  her  element.  With 
her  eyeglasses  clipped  firmly  in  place  on  her 
nose,  she  traced  the  pedigree  of  the  rarest  speci- 
mens, and  told  the  other  girls  all  about  sea 
urchins,  Japanese  trumpet  shells,  chambered 
nautili,  and  jellyfish,  that  Mrs.  Yates  called 
the  phosphorescent  mushrooms  of  the  sea. 

"Just  wait  till  we  reach  our  island,"  Ruth  told 
the  rest.  "Every  morning  early  I  shall  hunt 
along  the  beach  and  in  the  enchanted  gardens 
the  tide  leaves  in  the  rock  hollows,  and  I  shall 
get  results." 

"What  sort  of  shells  are  those,  Ruth?"  asked 
Crullers,  in  her  slow  sleepy  way.  "I  don't  re- 
member hearing  about  them." 

"Results,  Crullers,  results,"  repeated  Ruth, 
patiently,  but  forcibly.  "The  effects  of  a  cause. 
The  shells  and  things  left  by  the  tide.  Then 
after  we  have  classified,  and  studied  them,  we'll 
arrange  them  for  preservation.  Which  tint 
would  the  sea  weed  look  best  against,  Polly?  I 
brought  brown  cards  and  gray  and  green,  for 
mounting." 

"Brown,"  Polly  told  her,  "biscuit  brown. 
Don't  you  know  what  beautiful  colors  the  sea- 
weed dries  to,  purples,  and  lavenders,  and  deep 


90  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

maroons,  and  woodsy  browns.  Save  your  green 
boards  for  ferns,  and  shore  flowers,  and  your 
gray  ones  for  the  mosses  and  lichens." 

"And,  by  the  way,  Polly,"  added  Mrs.  Yates, 
"here  is  a  hint  that  may  prove  useful.  "Don't 
use  any  glue  or  mucilage  to  fasten  your  seaweed 
or  other  vegetation  to  the  boards.  Marbury  has 
some  fine  wire  brads  that  answer  the  purpose 
admirably.  They  are  sharp  and  flexible,  and 
nearly  invisible  after  they  are  fastened  to  the 
boards,  and  your  specimens  are  held  securely  in 
place." 

"That's  a  splendid  idea,  Mrs.  Yates,"  cried 
Kate  and  Polly  in  one  breath.  "We  wrondered 
how  we  could  fasten  them." 

"What  is  the  best  way  to  preserve  shells,  Mrs. 
Yates?"  asked  Ruth,  eagerly,  leaning  her  chin 
on  her  two  palms,  and  bending  forward. 

"Well,  that  depends  on  the  size.  Your  large 
ones  must  be  packed  separately— 

"But  we  shan't  find  very  large  ones  along  our 
coast,  shall  we?" 

"Indeed,  you  will,  especially  along  the  Maine 
shore.  Even  the  large  periwinkles,  that  are  pink 
and  brown  mottled,  are  too  large  to  put  in  bot- 
tles. You  will  find  as  I  did,  that  the  easiest  and 


YACHT  CLUB  91 

simplest  way  to  dispose  of  shells  is  to  make 
things  out  of  them  during  the  summer.  It 
passes  the  time,  and  is  very  enjoyable.  Have 
you  seen  the  portiere  that  hangs  between  my 
stateroom  and  Marbury's?  It  is  made  entirely 
of  shells,  strung  on  silken  cords.  Marbury  col- 
lected the  shells  and  I  made  it  one  summer  when 
we  took  a  cottage  near  Greenwich,  Conn.  There 
is  a  dearth  of  dainty  shells  along  the  Long  Island 
Sound  shore,  but  these  are  very  pretty,  and  are  so 
soft  that  you  can  pierce  them  easily  with  a  needle. 
I  don't  remember  their  name,  but  Marbury  used 
to  call  them  in  fun,  Neptune's  finger-nails." 

The  girls  wanted  to  see  the  portiere  at  once, 
and  they  followed  Mrs.  Yates  along  the  cabin 
to  her  own  special  quarters,  a  cool,  commodious 
state-room  that  was  her  very  own,  as  Polly  said. 
Next  to  it  on  one  side  slept  Marbury,  and  on 
the  other  was  the  Senator's  apartment.  The  por- 
tiere of  shells  was  exquisite,  the  girls  agreed. 
The  shells  were  hardly  larger  than  finger-nails, 
in  fact,  and  as  delicate,  and  translucent  as  sea 
foam.  Some  were  palest  pink,  and  others  clear 
amber,  and  still  others  were  a  faint  pearl,  or 
vivid  green. 

"It  makes  me  think  of  those  funny  wind  harps 


92  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

that  the  Chinese  use  to  scare  away  evil  spirits," 
said  Kate.  "Listen  how  the  shells  tinkle  when 
the  wind  sways  them  to  and  fro.  I'd  love  to 
carry  one  back  to  Miss  Calvert,  girls,  as  our 
summer  gift." 

"We'll  do  it,"  said  Polly  at  once,  "if  there  are 
any  of  these  shells  at  Lost  Island.  Mrs.  Yates, 
what  is  this  stretched  over  your  walls,  please?" 

"Just  everyday  fish  net,"  answered  Mrs.  Yates, 
smiling  as  Polly  and  the  rest  examined  the 
tightly  stretched,  dark  green  net  that  covered 
the  state-room  walls,  taut  and  snug.  "It  was 
Marbury's  idea.  He  told  me  the  boys  at  the 
naval  academy  used  it  on  their  walls  when  they 
camped  out,  to  hang  specimens  on,  or  any  odds 
and  ends.  I  wanted  something  that  would  not 
deface  the  woodwork,  and  Marbury  put  it  up 
for  me.  It  is  very  handy  to  slip  pictures  in,  or 
ornaments  of  any  kind." 

"It  would  make  good  window  curtains  too," 
said  Kate.  "Perhaps  we  may  be  able  to  get 
some  from  the  fishermen,  Polly.  It  would  come 
in  handy  somewhere,  and  if  we  didn't  do  any- 
thing else  with  it  we  might  even  use  it  to  catch 
fish  in." 

The  next  day  Marbury  showed  them  his  lines 


93 

and  fishing  tackle,  and  gave  them  general  hints 
on  the  gentle  art  of  landing  cod  and  mackerel 
and  other  fish. 

"And  what  about  lobsters?"  asked  Crullers. 
"I  like  lobster  all  cooked  up  in  cream  the  way 
Polly  makes  it  in  the  chafing  dish.  How  can  we 
catch  them?" 

"Here  you  are,  Crullers,"  called  Ruth,  from 
the  other  end  of  the  cabin.  "You  sit  down  here, 
and  read  all  about  it.  I  have  just  finished,  and 
I  feel  as  though  I  could  set  any  lobster  pot  along 
the  coast,  now." 

That  evening  was  the  last  they  were  to  spend 
on  the  yacht.  It  was  Monday  night,  and  the 
captain  promised  that  if  all  went  well  they  should 
waken  in  harbor  the  following  morning.  So 
after  dinner  they  gathered  in  the  cabin,  and  Mrs. 
Yates  played  for  them  on  the  piano,  while  out 
in  the  moonlight  the  Admiral  paced  the  deck  with 
the  Senator,  and  put  his  head  inside  the  door  every 
now  and  then  to  suggest  some  favorite. 

"Isn't  it  queer,  Polly?"  Isabel  said  softly,  as 
she  watched  them,  the  Senator  in  his  white  flan- 
nels and  Mrs.  Yates  all  in  white  too,  with  her 
soft,  fair  hair  worn  in  a  single  coronet  braid 
about  her  head.  "Isn't  it  queer  that  the  nicest 


people  are  always  the  simplest  in  their  ways, 
and  the  most  unaffected.  It's  only  the  others— 

"The  nobodies,"  assented  Polly,  quickly,  nod- 
ding her  head.  "I  know  just  what  you  mean. 
They  act  as  if  they  had  swallowed  a  pound  of 
starch.  Grandfather  told  me  that  Mrs.  Yates 
was  the  only  daughter  of  the  old  Arnold  family, 
in  Washington.  He  said  he  remembered  walk- 
ing one  day  along  the  street,  and  meeting  three 
colored  nurses  in  a  solemn  procession.  There  was 
one  to  carry  a  parasol  over  the  oldest  one,  and 
another  to  carry  the  baby's  wraps,  and  finally 
the  baby  herself  in  the  arms  of  the  chief  mammy. 
Just  think  of  it.  And  that  was  Mrs.  Yates  when 
she  was  Peggie  Arnold." 

"Mrs.  Yates,"  came  the  Admiral's  round  tones 
from  the  doorway,  "do  you  happen  to  know 
'Billy  was  a  Bo'sun'?" 

In  answer  Mrs.  Yates's  fingers  ran  off  a  little 
prelude,  and  she  sang,  while  all  the  girls  clustered 
around  the  piano  to  listen  to  the  brand  new  song: 

"OH,  Billy  was  a  bo'sun,  bold  and  brave, 

William  was  a  gay  young  sailor, 
Sailed  upon  the  south  sea  wave, 
Oh,  William  was  a  gay  young  tar. 


YACHT  CLUB  9o 

His  ship  was  called  the  "Mary  Ann," 

William  was  a  sailor, 
And  down  the  African  coast  she  ran, 

For  gold  and  i-vor-ee! 

For  gold  and  i-vor-ee! 
Oh,  Billy  was  a  bo'sun  bold  and  brave, 

William  was  a  gay  young  sailor, 
Sailed  upon  the  south  sea  wave, 

William,  he  was  a  gay  young  tar." 

"That's  the  one,"  applauded  the  Admiral, 
gaily.  "I  sang  that  chanty  before  now  in  a  fo'- 
cas'le  on  a  trading  ship  bound  for  the  Straits, 
when  I  wasn't  much  older  than  Polly  there." 

"Mother  knows  all  the  sailor  songs  and  fisher- 
man croons  of  the  seven  seas,"  said  Marbury,  as 
he  leaned  towards  his  mother,  turning  pages  when 
she  needed  help.  "I've  kept  count  to-night,  and 
in  the  last  half  hour  she  has  skipped  from  an 
Iceland  lullaby  to  a  Greek  rowing  chorus  we 
boys  used  to  sing  when  we  were  at  shell  practice 
on  the  bay.  Then  that  rippling  one  was  a  gon- 
dolier song  we  heard  at  Venice,  way  out  on  one 
of  the  small  canals  around  the  islands.  And 
just  before  this  last,  Mother,  wasn't  that  the  little 
lullaby  you  heard  at  lona?" 

"This?"  Mrs.  Yates  ran  over  the  simple,  soft 
melody,  and  Polly  caught  the  words. 


96  ,THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Day  has  barred  her  windows  close,  and  gaes  wi'   quiet 

feet, 
Night  wrapped  in  a  cloak  of  gray,  comes  saftly  doon  the 

street, 

Mither's  heart's  a  guiding  star,  tender,  strong,  and  true, 
Lullaby,  and  lulla-loo-oo — 

Sleep,  lammie,  noo,  sleep,  lammie,  noo." 

"Oh,  that's  a  darling,"  cried  Polly.  "Please, 
please,  sing  some  more." 

"We're  going  out  on  deck,  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Yates,  rising,  with  one  arm  around  Polly.  "The 
moon  is  rising,  and  I  want  to  hear  the  Polly 
Page  Glee  Club  this  last  night  we  will  be  to- 
gether." 

"If  a  mere  banjo  player  may  join  in  too,"  sug- 
gested Marbury,  his  eyes  twinkling  with  fun, 
"we'll  show  the  sharks  and  mermaids  what  real 
talent  can  do." 

The  girls  often  looked  back  on  that  evening. 
It  seemed  almost  too  happy  and  perfect  to  be 
quite  real,  Polly  said.  The  night  was  wonder- 
fully calm  and  clear,  a  night  when  all  the  stars 
looked  nearer  than  usual,  Sue  declared. 

Even  the  Admiral's  rolling  basso  was  frequently 
heard,  and  the  Senator  hummed  contentedly,  when 
they  happened  to  strike  a  special  favorite  of  his. 


YACHT  CLUB  97 

All  the  old  college  songs  and  heart-throb  tunes 
that  are  handed  down  over  cradles  of  nations 
were  touched  up  by  the  glee  club  that  night,  and 
last  of  all,  Polly's  clear  soprano  started  up  the 
Admiral's  favorite,  "Tom  Bowling." 

"Just  leave  that  one  to  the  echoes,"  he  said, 
as  the  sweetly-plaintive  old  melody  died  away  on 
the  still  night  air.  "And  now,  to  your  bunks, 
every  girl  Jack  of  you,  for  you'll  wake  up  to- 
morrow with  Maine  under  your  noses,  and  Lost 
Island  to  shake  hands  with  before  breakfast." 


CHAPTER   VII 


"POLLY!  POLLY!"  came  a  sleepy,  anxious  call 
from  Crullers'  berth  the  next  morning,  and 
Polly  sat  up  drowsily.  It  was  still  dark  in  their 
stateroom,  but  between  the  narrow  shutters  at 
the  window,  there  stole  a  gray  gleam  of  dawn. 
Polly  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  let  down  the  shut- 
ter. And  she  half  smiled  as  she  did  so,  remem- 
bering how  the  first  morning  Crullers  had  tried 
to  do  so,  and  had  started  to  cry  because  she  had 
let  the  shutter  fall  down  the  side  of  the  boat. 
Everything  on  the  yacht  was  silent.  The  en- 
gines had  stopped.  There  was  no  throbbing,  no 
vibration,  nothing,  except  stillness.  Even  to 
Polly's  practical  mind  there  came  a  vague  sense 
of  danger,  as  she  looked  out  of  the  window. 
Then  she  laughed. 

Crullers  was  already  out  of  bed,  a  blanket 
wrapped  around  her,  as  she  dropped  on  her  knees 
and  peered  under  the  berth. 

98 


YACHT  CLUB  99 

"What  are  you  doing?"  asked  Polly. 

"Looking  for  the  life  preservers,"  came 
back  Crullers'  half -smothered  tones.  "Are  we 
wrecked,  Polly?  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  stayed  at 
home." 

"Oh,  do  get  up  from  there,  goose,"  Polly 
laughed.  "We  are  on  the  coast  of  Maine,  that's 
all.  Hurry  up  and  get  dressed.  It's  half -past 
three.  Let's  go  out  on  deck  and  watch  the  sun- 
rise." 

"Oh,  Polly,  I'm  so  sleepy,"  pleaded  poor  Crul- 
lers. "If  it  isn't  a  wreck,  I'm  going  back  to 
bed." 

"Indeed,  you're  not,"  cried  Polly,  as  she 
brushed  out  her  heavy  curls  vigorously.  "I'll 
throw  pillows  at  you  if  you  dare  to  try  it.  If  I 
had  a  clothespin  handy,  I'd  stick  it  on  your  nose. 
Oh,  Crullers,  that  makes  me  think  of  something 
funny.  Now  listen,  for  it  may  wake  you  up. 
Stoney  was  bound  he'd  sleep  mornings,  and 
Aunty  Welcome  marched  upstairs  one  day  and 
stuck  a  clothespin  on  his  nose,  sure  enough.  She 
says  it's  the  greatest  discourager  of  sleepiness  she 
knows  of,  and  Stoney  got  up  fast  enough  after 
that  at  first  call." 

"It's  awfully  cold,  isn't  it?"  shivered  Crullers, 


100  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

groping  around  after  her  stockings.  Polly 
turned  on  the  electric  light  overhead. 

"Cold?  The  second  of  July.  Fiddlesticks!" 
She  put  her  head  out  of  the  little,  narrow  win- 
dow, trying  to  discern  the  shore  outline.  "I  can't 
see  anything  but  dark,  hilly-looking  bumps. 
We're  in  a  bay.  There's  a  big  light  way  off 
over  there,  blinking.  It's  a  lighthouse." 

There  came  a  light  tap  on  the  door. 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Polly.     "We're  up." 

"It's  me,"  said  Sue,  intimately,  but  without 
regard  for  grammar.  "I'm  so  glad  you're 
awake,  Polly.  Ted  and  I  got  up  as  soon  as  we 
heard  them  dropping  anchor.  Oh,  it's  glorious. 
The  sunrise  is  just  breaking  through  the  clouds, 
and  the  tide's  way  out,  and  we're  in  a  big  bay, 
Polly,  with  a  lot  of  little  islands  scattered 
around,  as  if  some  giant  boy  had  been  throwing 
giant  pebbles.  We  just  saw  a  lot  of  fishing 
smacks  go  by  on  their  way  out  to  the  banks." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  four  stood  on  deck. 
Marbury  was  the  only  one  there  to  greet  them, 
except  Captain  Sandy  Saunders  and  one  lone 
sailor.  It  was  quarter  of  four. 

"We  got  in  earlier  than  grandfather  ex- 
pected," said  Polly  after  the  good-mornings  had 


all  been  said.  "Just  look  at  all  those  islands. 
How  will  we  know  which  is  Lost  Island  among 
so  many?" 

"You  don't  call  every  rock  with  a  clump  of 
pines  hanging  to  it,  an  island,  do  you?"  Mar- 
bury  asked,  teasingly.  "I  don't  know  which  one 
of  those  is  your  island,  but  I  think  it  must  be 
larger  than  these  dots  of  land.  Do  you  see  that 
inlet  in  the  main  shore  over  east?  The  mate 
tells  me  that  the  village  lies  around  there,  about 
quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  river.  Eastport  is  the 
name  of  it.  All  along  the  north  shore  of  the 
bay  are  summer  cottages,  and  that  big  building 
where  you  can  see  lights  is  the  hotel.  It  stands 
between  two  bluffs.  That  other  large  building 
with  the  two  rows  of  verandas  is  the  Orienta 
Yacht  Club.  Father  says  he  knows  the  commo- 
dore of  it,  Mr.  Millard." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  found  out  so  much  about 
it,  while  we  have  been  asleep,"  said  Polly. 

"Don't  you?"  Marbury's  eyes  were  full  of 
mirth,  as  he  turned  to  her.  "I  don't  know 
whether  I  had  better  tell  you  or  not,  but  I  will. 
Our  mate's  home  is  at  Eastport,  and  he  told  me 
all  about  the  place." 

"Doesn't  he  want  to  go  home  for  a  little  visit 


102  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

while  you  are  at  anchor?"  asked  Sue,  quickly. 

"I  don't  know.  There  will  hardly  be  time,  for 
we're  to  sail  as  soon  as  we  put  you  ashore  and 
find  you  are  safely  located.  Perhaps  he'll  send 
a  message  by  you." 

Nobody  but  Sue  thought  any  more  about  it, 
for  the  Admiral  appeared  on  deck  just  as  the  rim 
of  the  sun  appeared  above  the  horizon. 

"Good-morning,  everybody,"  he  called,  in  his 
deep,  cheery  tones.  "God  bless  us  all,  what  a 
morning  this  is!  Wind's  due  south,  isn't  it, 
Cap'n?  Bears  the  fragrance  of  a  thousand 
shores  and  sea-girt  flowering  isles  upon  it." 

"Grandfather,  you're  getting  as  poetical  as 
Isabel.  She  has  been  declaiming,  'Build  thee 
more  stately  mansions,  oh  my  soul,'  ever  since  we 
first  called  her,  and  she  isn't  all  dressed  yet.  If 
you  didn't  have  me  to  stand  by  you  for  a  good 
shipmate,  you'd  be  the  most  rollicking  old  tar 
that  ever  trod  a  deck." 

"I  declare,  Polly,  I'll  appeal  to  Mrs.  Yates 
the  instant  she  appears,"  quoth  the  Admiral, 
laughing.  "I  am  dignity  itself." 

Polly  slipped  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
kissed  him,  her  brown  eyes  brimful  of  mischief, 


tYACHT  CLUB  103 

and  they  went  over  to  where  Captain  Saunders 
stood. 

"It's  four  thirty-five  now,"  he  said.  "Break- 
fast for  all  hands  at  five  are  the  Senator's  orders, 
and  ashore  at  six." 

"Are  we  to  go  direct  to  the  island?"  asked 
Polly. 

"No,"  the  Admiral  spoke  up.  "I  have  talked 
it  over  with  Mrs.  Yates,  and  she  agrees  with  me 
it  would  be  better  for  you  girls  to  put  up  at  the 
hotel  first,  until  you  find  out  how  the  land  lies. 
I  always  had  my  doubts  about  Robinson  Cru- 
soe's comfort,  and  I  want  you  to  be  situated  com- 
fortably, before  I  leave  you." 

"I  thought  you  were  going  to  remain  up  here 
right  along,  sir?"  said  Marbury. 

"Not  exactly.  This  yacht  club  opens  for  a 
couple  of  months,  and  I  cannot  put  in  all  that 
time  with  the  rocking  chair  fleet  over  yonder  on 
the  veranda  of  the  hotel  or  boat  club,  can  I?  I 
shall  stay  around  within  hail,  until  they  get  their 
bearings,  and  are  fairly  on  their  course,  then  I 
am  going  South  until  the  regatta  in  August." 

"Who  is  that  man  over  yonder?"  asked  Sue 
suddenly.  She  had  been  far  up  in  her  favorite 


104  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

seat  in  the  prow,  as  close  to  the  Hippocampus  as 
she  could  get,  watching  the  outline  of  the  shore 
shape  itself  clearly  from  the  shadows.  A  dory 
was  just  coming  in  from  the  channel  that  led 
to  the  open  sea,  with  one  man  in  it,  and  a  lot 
of  lanterns  for  cargo. 

"One  of  the  men  from  the  station,"  Captain 
Saunders  explained.  "You  can  see  the  light- 
house out  on  the  Point  yonder,  can't  you  ?  Those 
buildings  at  its  base  are  where  the  light-tender 
lives,  and  farther  along  shore  you  can  see  the 
roof  of  another  building,  with  a  tall  spar  on  it. 
That's  the  life-saving  station.  Every  night  and 
morning  one  of  the  men  goes  out  to  hang  the 
signal  lights  on  the  piling  that  marks  the  chan- 
nel to  the  inlet  yonder.  It's  a  narrow  passage, 
and  there's  a  bad  ledge  of  rock  off  to  the 
southeast.  That  arm  of  land  to  the  south  they 
call  the  Sickle." 

He  pointed  to  the  stretch  of  shore  that  ex- 
tended from  the  mainland  for  several  miles,  and 
curved  around  Eagle  Bay  like  a  half  moon. 

"Why  didn't  they  call  it  the  Crescent?"  asked 
Isabel,  meditatively.  "It's  so  much  more  ex- 
pressive." 

"So  is   Sickle,"   laughed  Polly,   waving  her 


YACHT  CLUB  105 

handkerchief  towards  the  dory.  "Maybe  this 
one  gathers  in  the  harvest  of  the  sea." 

"Polly,  don't  do  that,"  exclaimed  Ruth. 
"They'll  see  you." 

"I  hope  they  do,"  responded  Polly,  delight- 
edly. "I  wasn't  waving  at  the  boat,  goosie. 
There,"  as  one  figure  in  the  dory  lifted  an  oar 
in  salute  to  her,  and  waved  his  cap.  "I've  made 
one  friend,  anyway,  on  this  foreign  coast  of  Bar- 
baree." 

The  breakfast  gong  struck.  It  was  one  other 
thing  in  the  daily  life  aboard  the  Hippocampus 
that  pleased  the  girls.  At  each  meal  the  steward 
would  strike  a  musical  Chinese  gong  with  two 
muffled  sticks,  and  the  sweet,  vibrating  chimes 
would  sound  clearly  through  the  cabin. 

"When  we  get  settled  in  our  club  house,"  Polly 
said,  as  they  started  for  the  dining-room,  "we'll 
have  one  of  those  gongs  if  I  have  to  make  it 
myself." 

"Polly,  do  you  realize,"  said  Isabel,  regret- 
fully, "that  after  all  this  splendor  we  are  going 
bang  on  a  desert  isle?" 

'  'Quoth  the  Raven,  Nevermore,'  "  Polly  said 
in  a  deep,  mournful  tone  that  matched  Isabel's 
exactly,  and  made  them  all  laugh. 


106  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Not  that  I  mind  it,"  added  Isabel,  hastily.  "I 
expect  Polly'll  have  us  all  in  sou'westers  and  oil- 
skins before  we  get  through,  patrolling  the  beach 
with  the  life-guard.  I  wish  I  could  swim.  Is 
it  hard  learning,  Senator  Yates?" 

"Not  very."  The  Senator's  face  wore  a  rem- 
iniscent smile.  "I  was  about  seven  when  I 
learned.  Tad  Newell  was  my  chum  those  days. 
He  was  my  cousin,  and  about  twelve  years  old, 
and  he  could  swim  like  a  tommycod.  So  he  un- 
dertook to  teach  me.  We  went  down  to  the  old 
swimming  hole  on  Tad's  place,  and  I  took  off 
my  clothes,  while  Tad  tied  a  rope  around  my 
waist.  'Now,  all  you  need  do,  Charlie,  is  to  let 
yourself  go,'  he  told  me,  'and  I'll  hang  on  to  the 
rope  till  you  learn  to  swim.'  So  I  jumped  from 
a  rock  into  the  water,  and  let  myself  go,  but  that 
rope  parted.  Tad  yelled  to  me  to  strike  out  and 
tread  water.  I  did  as  I  was  told,  and  the  first 
thing  I  knew  I  was  swimming  around  the  old 
pond  all  right.  'Golly  Ann,'  Tad  called  out, 
'I'll  bet  a  cookie  if  that  old  rope  hadn't  given 
way,  you'd  have  been  trailing  around  here  on  the 
end  of  it  for  an  hour.' ' 

"We'll  remember  that  story,  and  provide  good, 
strong  ropes,"  Polly  said,  laughing.  "Crul- 


YACHT  CLUB  107 

lers  declares  she  will  put  on  a  life  preserver,  but 
I  like  the  water  wings  the  best.  I  do  hope  we 
may  be  able  to  see  the  island  to-day,  and  the 
bungalow,  or  club-house,  or  shack,  whichever  it  is. 
Ruth  brought  a  flag  along  to  raise  as  soon  as  we 
land,  and  our  own  yacht  club  pennant,  golden 
sun  on  a  sea  of  blue." 

By  six  the  girls  were  through  their  breakfast, 
and  ready  to  go  ashore.  Marbury  stayed  with 
his  mother,  but  the  Senator  went  with  them  as 
far  as  the  hotel  landing.  Another  trip  brought 
their  camp  kit  and  suitcases,  and  finally, 
about  nine,  they  all  stood  on  the  broad  veranda 
of  the  shore  hotel,  waving  handkerchiefs  in  fare- 
well to  the  Yates  family,  as  the  Hippocampus 
left  the  little  bay  and  steamed  out  beyond  the 
point  of  the  Sickle,  on  her  way  up  to  Nova 
Scotia  and  Prince  Edward's  Island. 

"But  they're  certain  to  stop  and  see  us  on  their 
way  back  the  end  of  August,""  Polly  said  cheer- 
ily. "We've  had  a  fine  trip,  and  I  think  it  was 
mighty  lucky  we  had  it  at  all.  So  now  it's  over, 
let's  not  sit  down  and  weep.  Isabel's  wiping  her 
eyes  now.  Face  about  the  other  way  and  be 
happy.  Where's  grandfather?" 

Down  at  the  far  end  of  the  veranda  he  sat  in 


108  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

a  comfortable  armchair,  chatting  with  another 
elderly  gentleman. 

"He  has  joined  the  rocking-chair  fleet  so  soon," 
Kate  exclaimed.  "And  Aunty  Welcome's  up- 
stairs telling  the  chambermaids  all  about  Vir- 
ginia. Let's  go  and  find  the  captain  who  knows 
all  about  the  island  and  the  yachts." 

"But  we  don't  even  know  his  name,"  said 
Isabel. 

"We  shall,  though,  soon,"  Polly  replied.  Her 
eyes  were  bright  with  excitement.  "I  am  going 
to  ask  everyone  I  meet,  very  nicely,  if  they  can 
direct  me  to  the  captain,  and  you  see  if  we  don't 
find  him." 

Up  the  boardwalk  they  started,  going  to- 
wards the  village.  The  hotel  was  a  low,  two- 
storied  frame  building,  with  broad  verandas 
around  it,  and  tall,  rocky  bluffs  on  either  side. 
Behind  it,  through  a  break  in  the  bluffs,  could 
be  caught  a  glimpse  of  hills,  blending  one  into 
the  other,  and  rising  higher  and  higher  against 
the  skyline,  until  they  seemed  to  become  a  part 
of  the  clouds  themselves. 

The  crescent-shaped  shore  was  rocky  also. 
Before  the  hotel  was  a  long  stretch  of  smooth 
beach,  and  the  island  shores  looked  sandv  from 


YACHT  CLUB  109 

a  distance,  but  for  the  rest,  rocks  seemed  to  pre- 
dominate. Not  the  smooth,  shelving  sandstone 
the  girls  were  used  to  seeing,  but  great,  rough 
masses  of  brownish  green,  that  appeared  to  have 
the  hardness  and  weight  of  iron  slag. 

"Just  look  at  that  group  way  out  yonder  in 
the  bay,"  Ruth  exclaimed.  "Aren't  they  like  a 
herd  of  hippopotami  under  water?  I  expect  to 
see  them  rise  up,  and  start  away  any  minute. 
And,  see,  girls,  every  single  one  of  those  islands 
has  trees  on  it.  I  wonder  which  is  Lost  Island?" 

"Seems  to  me,"  said  Isabel,  critically,  "that  a 
sandy  beach  would  be  much  better  for  our  sail- 
ing, than  those  rocks.  Suppose  we  bump  into 
them." 

"Don't  worry,  Dame  Isabel,"  Polly  slipped 
her  arm  around  her,  happily.  "If  we  bump  into 
them,  we'll  at  least  have  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing they  didn't  bump  into  us,  won't  we?  Here 
cometh  a  native  of  this  wild  and  rocky  shore, 
mates.  I  think  he's  Boy  Friday." 

Swinging  leisurely  along  the  beach  was  a  tall, 
long-legged,  stoop-shouldered  boy  of  fifteen 
years  or  so.  He  wore  overalls,  turned  up  around 
his  bare  legs,  and  a  huge  straw  hat  hid  his  face 
in  shadow.  Sue  declared  that  he  resembled  the 


110  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

crane  they  had  seen  away  back  in  the  wild  rice- 
fields  along  the  Potomac.  But  he  was  a  friendly- 
looking  native,  at  all  events,  and  he  carried  a 
pail  of  freshly-dug  clams,  and  over  one  shoulder 
a  hoe  with  a  broken  handle. 

"Don't  scare  him,  girls,"  cautioned  Polly;  but 
she  had  scarcely  spoken  before  the  boy  waved 
the  hoe  at  them  in  a  neighborly  salute,  and  sent 
out  a  hail. 

"Hello!" 

"Hello!"  shouted  back  Polly  and  Sue,  but  the 
more  sedate  members  of  the  club  waited  until 
he  caught  up  with  them  before  delivering  any 
greeting. 

"I  saw  you  come  ashore  this  morning,"  he  said, 
smiling  at  them  frankly.  "I  was  out  with  father 
taking  in  the  lights,  and  we  saw  somebody  wave 
at  us  from  the  yacht — " 

"I  did,"  smiled  Polly. 

"Did  you?  I  waved  back.  And  father  said 
he  guessed  you  must  be  the  folks  we  was  look- 
ing for,  so  I'd  better  stop  over  at  the  hotel  this 
morning  on  my  way  back,  but  I  went  clamming 
first.  Got  some  whoppers  too,  regular  qua- 
haugs." 


YACHT  CLUB  111 

He  held  out  the  pail  for  their  admiration,  and 
the  girls  duly  admired,  but  it  was  not  with  the 
thought  for  those  particular  clams.  As  Kate 
said  afterwards:  "I  thought  right  away  that  if 
he  could  get  them,  so  could  we,  and  what  dandy 
clam  frys  we'd  have  in  the  dear  old  chafing-dish." 

Polly  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a  minute  more 
before  she  hazarded  a  guess. 

"Is  your  father  the  captain?" 

The  boy  nodded,  smiling  until  his  mouth 
looked  like  the  Cheshire  cat's. 

"Yes'm.  Cap'n  Ben  Carey,  formerly  of  the 
schooner  Mary,  now  on  duty  at  the  station  down 
yonder  on  the  Point.  They  call  our  end  of  the 
bay  Fair  Havens.  It's  in  the  Bible,  too." 

"Is  it?"  Polly  and  the  others  were  now  inter- 
ested fully.  Even  Marbury,  with  all  his  cadet 
training  back  of  him,  had  been  somewhat  shy 
with  all  seven  girls  around  him,  plying  him  with 
questions,  but  this  boy  was  not. 

"What's  your  own  name?"  asked  Sue. 

"Tom  Carey." 

"Can  you  sail  a  yacht  all  by  yourself?" 

"I  can  sail  anything,"  answered  the  clam  dig- 
ger, modestly. 


112  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"The  captain  is  in  charge  of  Lost  Island,  isn't 
he?"  Polly  inquired.  ''I  am  Polly  Page,  Mrs. 
Holmes's  niece." 

Tom  nodded,  and  put  out  his  hand. 

"I  know.  We've  been  looking  for  you  any 
time.  We've  got  five  of  the  Holmes  boys'  boats 
down  at  our  place.  Father  got  a  letter  from 
London  telling  him  you  was  coming,  and  he 
gave  me  the  stamp  to  keep.  Going  to  look  at 
the  place  this  morning?" 

"We  want  to  go  over  as  soon  as  we  may," 
Polly  said.  "How  far  is  it?" 

Tom  pointed  to  the  opposite  shore  of  the  bay, 
about  midway  between  the  Point  and  the  hotel. 

"It's  right  over  yonder,  where  the  beach  looks 
flat  all  to  once,  then  it  hunches  up  into  a  big  knob 
of  land.  It  isn't  a  whole  island.  There's  a  ridge 
of  land  joins  it  on  the  main  shore.  It's  a  good 
beach  for  sail  boats.  There's  five  of  them  all 
together,  and  father's  got  a  lot  more.  He  rents 
them  for  the  season  to  the  cottage  folks  along 
shore.  He  owns  a  sloop,  too,  and  he  lets  that  out 
to  folks  who  want  to  sail  clear  out  to  the  banks 
and  fish.  And  Nancy  has  her  own  boat  too." 

"Who  is  Nancy?"  asked  Ted. 


YACHT  CLUB  113 

"My  sister,"  Tom's  head  lifted  a  trifle  higher 
than  ordinary,  as  he  said  it.  It  was  easy  to  see 
the  estimation  he  had  of  Nancy.  "They've  got 
a  junior  yacht  club  over  at  the  Orienta,  and  not 
one  in  the  lot  can  sail  as  well  as  Nancy.  Look 
over  there." 

Around  the  shore  at  the  inlet  came  a  trim 
catboat,  tacking  and  beating  down  across  the 
bay  as  a  puff  of  wind  hit  her  as  easily  as  a  gull 
swerves  from  its  course. 

"That's  Nancy,"  Tom  said  proudly.  "She's 
been  over  to  the  village,  most  likely,  for  mother. 
She  don't  like  the  walk  around  the  shore  road. 
Guess  she's  bringing  back  something  from  my 
aunt's." 

"How  old  is  she?"  Isabel's  tone  was  quite 
respectful,  as  she  watched  the  single  figure  in 
the  boat,  just  a  mere  dark  speck,  half  hidden  by 
the  sail. 

"Thirteen.  I'm  going  on  sixteen.  We  look 
after  things  at  Fair  Havens  while  father's  on 
duty  down  at  the  Point." 

"Is  he  a  real  life-saver?"  asked  Polly,  eagerly. 

"Yes,"  said  Tom,  simply,  adding,  "He's  got 
some  medals.  He's  a  coast  guardsman.  Do  you 


114  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

want  to  go  over  to  your  place  right  now?  I'm 
going  along  home,  and  it's  only  a  step  from 
there." 

Polly  considered.  It  was  nearly  noon,  but 
they  all  wanted  to  see  Lost  Island  so  very  much 
that  she  knew  they  would  not  mind  giving  up 
their  luncheon  at  the  hotel  for  the  trip. 

"Have  you  got  a  boat  that  will  carry  us 
all?"  she  asked,  doubtfully. 

"We  won't  need  a  boat.  I  said  they  only 
called  it  an  island,  didn't  I?  It  isn't  a  whole 
one.  It's  a  sort  of  knob  that  sticks  up  out  of 
the  water,  with  a  good  bit  of  beach,  and  at  high 
tide  it's  pretty  well  surrounded,  except  for  a 
ridge  of  hummocks  you  can  walk  over.  If  we 
follow  this  shore  road,  it  leads  right  to  our  house, 
and  your  place,  and  then  straight  along  and 
minds  its  own  business  till  it  gets  out  to  the 
Point." 

"Then  we'll  be  neighbors,  won't  we?"  said 
Ruth.  "I  guess  we'll  be  very  glad  to  have  good 
ones  within  hail  before  we  get  through." 

"We'll  all  be  good  neighbors  to  you,"  Tom  re- 
turned quite  seriously.  "We're  mighty  glad 
some  real  folks  are  going  to  live  near  us  all  sum- 
mer. It  gets  lonesome  way  out  there  on  the  bay 


YACHT  CLUB  115 

shore,  and  the  village  is  two  miles  away.  It's 
just  exactly  one  mile  from  our  house  to  the  hotel, 
then  another  mile  on  to  Eastport." 

"Do  you  walk  it  often?"  asked  Ted,  her  hands 
deep  in  her  sweater  pockets.  "We'll  have  to  go 
over  after  our  mail,  and  I'm  going  to  be  post  girl. 
I  love  to  walk,  miles." 

"We  don't  walk  it  much," -returned  Tom,  stol- 
idly. "You  won't  either,  after  you  find  you  can 
clip  across  the  bay  in  a  'cat'  in  quarter  the  time." 

They  had  turned  about,  and  were  walking 
slowly  back  along  the  boardwalk  towards  the 
hotel.  The  Admiral  saw  them  coming,  and  came 
down  from  the  veranda  to  meet  them.  Polly 
managed  the  introduction  in  her  own  way. 

"Grandfather,  dear,  this  is  Tom  Carey,  the 
captain's  son.  He  knows  all  about  the  island, 
and  takes  care  of  the  yachts  for  his  father.  And 
may  we,  please,  please,  walk  right  over,  and  see 
it  all  now?" 

The  Admiral  referred  the  question  to  his  watch. 
Polly  loved  that  watch.  It  was  really  an  old 
friend  of  the  family.  It  was  a  thin  watch,  of 
old  gold,  with  a  dull  gold  face,  and  black  hands 
and  figures  on  it,  and  more  than  that,  it  struck 
the  hours,  in  a  queer,  high-pitched  little  ring. 


116  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Eleven  thirty-five  it  is,  Polly.  Will  you  be 
back  by  one  sharp?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  promised  Polly,  and  off  they  went, 
Indian  file,  along  the  two-plank  walk,  with  the 
tall,  awkward  figure  in  overalls  leading. 

"Seems  to  be  an  able  seaman,"  commented  the 
Admiral,  comfortably  to  himself,  as  he  went  back 
to  his  easy  chair  and  the  budget  of  mail  that 
awaited  him,  and  if  Tom  could  only  have  heard 
him,  he  could  not  have  asked  for  higher  praise. 

The  Admiral's  opinion  was  verified  by  the  girls 
before  half  an  hour  had  passed.  In  that  brief 
time,  Tom  had  subdued  even  Polly  with  the 
breadth  and  depth  and  height  of  his  knowledge 
of  boats  and  sailor  craft.  One  mile  from  the 
hotel  they  came  to  the  Carey  house.  There  was 
a  good-sized  boat  dock,  with  a  dozen  or  more  sail 
boats  moored  alongside,  and  several  row  boats. 
A  large  signboard  nailed  up  on  crossbeams  noti- 
fied the  passing  world  that  it  had  reached  the 
port  of  "Fair  Havens."  A  boardwalk  led  up 
from  the  dock  over  the  beach  to  the  house.  It 
made  the  girls  think  of  a  house  built  of  cards 
that  first  time  the}''  saw  it.  Not  but  what  it  was 
solid  enough,  but  it  seemed  to  be  in  sections,  and 
one  part  leaned  comfortably  over  for  support  on 


.YACHT  CLUB  117 

all  the  other  adjacent  parts.  Once  upon  a  time 
it  had  been  painted  red,  but  wind  and  storms  and 
the  drifting,  beating  sand  had  scraped  off  nearly 
every  vestige  of  paint,  and  left  the  boards  smooth 
and  clean  as  a  freshly-scrubbed  oak  floor.  On 
the  south  side  of  the  house  around  the  kitchen 
door  was  a  little  garden  enclosed  by  a  paling 
fence,  and  hollyhocks  grew  nearly  to  the  eaves, 
in  tall,  regular  rows  like  grenadiers.  A  honey- 
suckle vine  climbed  over  the  side  wall,  and  there 
was  the  sweet  fragrance  of  stocks  and  sweetbrier 
over  all,  with  sweet  peas  reaching  out  loving 
tendrils  through  the  palings. 

"My  sister  takes  care  of  our  garden,"  said 
Tom,  proudly.  "She  can  do  anything  she  sets 
her  hand  to.  Mother  says  she's  just  like  Aunt 
Cynthy  over  in  Eastport.  She  tried  to  paint 
the  fence  white,  but  it  didn't  last.  When  win- 
ter comes,  the  sand  just  beats  up  here,  and  eats 
it  off  clean.  Don't  you  want  to  stop  in,  and 
get  acquainted?" 

Indeed  they  did  want  to,  Polly  replied 
promptly,  so  up  the  plank  walk  they  went  to 
the  side  door.  Tom  pointed  out  the  arching 
framework  above  it,  and  its  crimson  ram- 
bler. 


118  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"I  nailed  that  portico  up  there,"  he  told  them. 
"And  Nancy  transplanted  the  rambler." 

"It's  ever  so  pretty,"  the  girls  said  heartily, 
and  Tom  picked  some  of  the  sweet  red  roses  for 
each  of  them.  Inside  the  house  some  one  was 
singing,  but  when  they  tapped  on  the  door  it 
ceased,  and  Nancy  herself  came  to  greet  them. 
She  was  tall  and  tanned,  this  Maine  shore  girl, 
and  though  she  was  only  thirteen,  her  head  topped 
Kate's.  Her  long  fair  hair  was  bound  around 
her  head  in  two  braids,  and  her  eyes  were  as 
frank  and  as  blue  as  Tom's;  as  Polly  said  after- 
wards, her  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes  looked  out  of 
place  in  contrast  with  her  tanned  arms  and  face. 
But  they  saw  at  a  glance  that  here  was  a  neigh- 
bor worth  having,  and  one  to  be  cultivated.  Mrs. 
Carey  welcomed  them  warmly.  She  was  just 
Nancy  grown  plumper  and  older,  and  she  even 
wore  her  hair  in  the  same  way,  two  long  braids 
bound  around  her  head  like  a  wreath.  Isabel 
tried  to  do  hers  up  that  way  the  very  next  day, 
but  gave  it  up. 

While  they  talked  of  their  summer  plans,  and 
Polly  went  down  to  the  landing  with  Nancy  to 
look  over  the  boats  there,  the  girls  watched  Mrs. 
Carey  fry  fish  balls,  and  it  was  a  ceremony.  Not 


YACHT  CLUB  119 

in  any  ordinary  frying  pan  did  she  fry  them,  but 
in  a  deep  kettle,  just  as  Aunty  Welcome  fried 
doughnuts,  and  when  the  balls  came  out  they 
were  laid  in  a  draining  pan,  all  cooked  to  a  deli- 
cious golden  brown,  until  your  mouth  watered 
just  to  look  at  them. 

"Don't  you  girls  want  to  sit  right  up  to  the 
table  and  have  a  bite  before  you  take  the  walk 
over  to  the  Knob?"  asked  Mrs.  Carey  suddenly. 
"You'll  be  famished  before  you  get  back  to  the 
hotel.  Of  course  you  will.  Guess  I  knew  all 
about  girls  and  their  appetites  before  you  were 
born.  Nancy,  you  get  some  plates,  and  those 
fresh-baked  biscuit  covered  over  on  the  bread 
board  there,  and  I'll  get  a  bottle  of  my  Chili 
sauce.  I  wouldn't  give  two  cents  for  fish  balls 
unless  I  could  trim  them  up  with  Chili  sauce." 

Taste  good?  The  girls  hoped  all  along  the 
road  to  Lost  Island,  after  it  was  over,  that  Mrs. 
Carey  made  fish  balls  often. 

"Tom  says  she  can  make  clam  pies,  too,  girls," 
Crullers  said,  eagerly.  Crullers  was  always 
radiant  when  the  subject  came  up  of  feeding  the 
inner  girl.  "And  clam  chowder,  and  fritters, 
and  Indian  puddings." 

"What  are  Indian  puddings?"  asked  Isabel. 


120         THE  POLLY;  PAGE 

"Hush,"  warned  Polly.  "Don't  ask  questions, 
Isabel.  You  make  Indian  puddings  out  of  corn- 
meal,  and  cream,  and  molasses,  and  spice.  Any- 
body knows  that.  Whenever  I  used  to  feel  sad 
after  Aunty  Welcome  had  scolded  me,  she'd 
always  turn  around  and  coax  Mandy  to  make  me 
an  Indian  pudding  just  piled  full  of  raisins. 
Oh,  girls,  look!  There  it  is." 

She  stopped  short,  and  pointed  ahead  of  them. 
They  had  come  to  a  path  leading  up  over  the 
rocks.  The  high- water  mark  could  be  plainly 
seen,  where  the  tide  had  left  a  little  fringe  of 
shells,  and  driftwood,  and  seaweed.  There  were 
pools  here  and  there,  too,  and  these  were  half 
full  of  water.  Tom  was  striding  ahead  down 
the  rocks  to  where  a  narrow  neck  of  land  joined 
Lost  Island  to  the  mainland.  But  the  girls 
paused  for  a  minute  on  the  rocks,  and  looked 
down  with  happy  eyes  on  the  future  haven  of  the 
Polly  Page  Yacht  Club. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DROPPING  ANCHOR 

"I  TOLD  you  it  was  just  a  knob  of  land  stick- 
ing out  from  the  shore,"  said  Tom.  "It's  nearly 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  long." 

Polly  lifted  her  head,  and  drew  in  a  deep,  long 
breath  of  the  cool,  salty  air  that  blew  in  from 
the  southeast.  She  looked  down  at  the  "Knob," 
as  they  soon  grew  accustomed  to  calling  the 
island.  There  was  a  fine  incurved  beach  for 
bathing,  with  a  great,  tumbled  mass  of  rocks  at 
the  farther  end  that  rose  higher  and  higher  at 
the  end  pointing  towards  the  bay.  Young  wil- 
low and  scrub  pine  grew  short  and  thick  wherever 
they  could  get  a  footing  in  the  rock  crevices,  and 
there  was  plenty  of  grass,  but  it  was  tall  and 
sharp  pointed  and  tinted  queer  colors  from  the 
tide. 

"You  can  walk  away  out  yonder  into  the  water 
at  low  tide,"  said  Tom.  "The  beach  is  a  fine 
one,  better  than  we've  got  at  Fair  Havens. 

121 


122  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

There  ain't  any  deep  holes  at  all.  That's  a  pretty 
good  landing  too.  It  lops  over  some,  but  that 
won't  hurt  anything.  You'll  get  used  to  it,  and 
it's  easy  to  moor  to." 

The  girls  scrambled  after  him  down  the  rocky 
path,  and  followed  him  as  he  picked  his  way  over 
the  sand  bar,  stepping  from  one  grass  hummock 
to  the  next. 

"This  is  high  and  dry  at  low  tide,"  called  back 
Tom.  "Guess  you'll  have  to  jump  some  places 
now." 

"Some  places!"  repeated  Sue,  holding  up  her 
clean  linen  skirt  in  dismay.  "I'm  hopping  like 
a  frog  now,  and  my  shoes  are  wet.  We'll  need  a 
balloon  or  an  air  ship  when  the  tide  comes  in." 

"Here's  the  house,"  came  Tom's  cheery  voice, 
beyond  a  sand  dune,  his  bare  feet  having  carried 
him  swiftly  over  the  places  where  the  girls  had 
to  pick  their  way.  And  all  at  once  they  saw  it, 
the  place  they  had  dreamed  of,  and  talked  of, 
and  hoped  for,  for  nearly  two  weeks.  It  was 
gray,  and  lopsided  like  the  landing  place,  and  as 
weatherworn  as  the  Carey's  paling  fence.  Some 
fisherman  had  built  it  years  ago,  and  shielded  it 
from  the  northwest  winds  by  putting  it  close 
against  the  sand  dune;  facing  south,  it  looked 


lYACHT  CLUB  123 

out  over  the  Sickle.  He  must  have  had  a  variable 
mind,  that  first  fisherman,  for  he  had  started  out 
with  two  rooms,  then  added  a  lean-to,  and  yet 
another  lean-to,  and  then  had  built  a  third  one 
that  leaned  fairly  over  on  the  original  lean-tos. 
The  lean-to  portion  of  the  house  then  leaned  all 
together  on  the  sand  dune,  but  the  front  part  was 
up  on  a  rock  foundation,  and  there  was  a  fair- 
sized  porch  across  it  that  Mrs.  Holmes  had  built, 
when  the  boys  had  taken  it  for  a  summer  camp. 

But  in  spite  of  the  new  supports  under  the 
flooring,  it  had  a  decided  tilt  to  leeward,  from 
generations  of  storms  that  had  whacked  it,  and 
battered  it,  and  all  but  demolished  it.  A  tall  flag 
staff  still  reared  itself  squarely  in  front  of  the 
steps,  and  at  sight  of  it  Polly  ran  ahead  of  the 
others. 

"What  is  it,  Polly?"  called  Ruth,  holding  to 
her  hat. 

"I  know  what  she's  going  to  do,  I  know,"  cried 
Sue.  "Salute  the  colors!" 

Polly  reached  the  flag  staff,  and  took  the  "col- 
ors" from  her  reefer  pocket,  where  they  had  been 
safely  tucked  away,  against  the  time  appointed. 
She  had  made  that  flag  herself.  It  had  been  her 
special  contribution  to  the  general  belongings  of 


124  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

the  club,  and  as  Polly  ran  it  gallantly  up  to  the 
top  of  the  pole,  the  girls  sent  up  a  good,  round 
cheer,  and  even  Tom  threw  his  cap  high  in  the 

air. 

"'Rah!  'Rah!  'Rah!"  he  shouted.  "She's 
a-flying  a  good  one." 

"That's  a  blue  triangular  pennant,"  ex- 
plained Sue.  "It's  a  golden  sun  on  a  field  of 
blue." 

"A  golden  sun  rampant,  isn't  it?"  Crullers 
put  in. 

"No,  dear,  couchant,"  Sue  laughed.  "Why 
will  you  talk  about  heraldry  when  you  don't 
know  anything  about  it.  I've  studied  it  all 
up." 

The  sand  had  drifted  up  around  the  porch  base 
in  regular  hillocks,  nearly  to  the  railing. 

"When  we  get  too  tired  to  use  the  steps,"  Polly 
said,  "we  can  just  step  over  the  railing,  and  slide 
down." 

"I  can't  find  a  door,"  said  Isabel,  doubtfully, 
as  she  came  around  the  house  from  a  tour  of 
inspection,  and  Kate  began  to  chant,  teasingly, 

"Oh,  I  wish  my  room  had  a  floor, 

I  don't  care  so  much  for  a  window  or  a  door, 
But  I  wish  my  room  had  a  floor !" 


YACHT  CLUB  125 

"What's  that  funny  little  cupola  up  on  top?" 
called  out  Polly. 

"That's  the  lookout,"  explained  Tom.  "Lots 
of  houses  alongshore  have  them.  It's  so  the 
women  folks  at  home  can  climb  up  there  in  foul 
weather,  and  look  out  towards  sea  through 
glasses,  to  see  if  the  ships  are  coming  home." 

"Oh,  I  like  that,"  Polly  said.  "I've  got  ever 
so  many  ships  that  are  coming  home  some  day, 
and  when  I  get  discouraged  after  this  I  shall 
build  a  look-out  in  my  heart  and  climb  up  there 
with  a  spy  glass  and  see  how  the  weather  is  out 
to  sea,  and  maybe  I'll  see  a  sail." 

"Polly,  you  sentimental  goose,"  laughed  Kate, 
slipping  one  arm  around  the  commodore.  "You 
never  see  things  just  as  they  are." 

"I  see  them  the  way  they  ought  to  be,  and 
that's  better,"  Polly  smiled  back.  "Where's 
Tom?" 

"Prying  off  the  planks  that  are  nailed  over 
the  doors  and  windows,"  Sue  called,  and  pres- 
ently they  all  went  inside. 

There  were  no  plastered  walls  or  ceilings.  All 
the  rooms  were  finished  off  like  the  interior  of 
a  cabin,  with  narrow  boards  nailed  close  together, 
and  there  was  a  spicy,  pungent  odor  through  the 


126  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

house,  like  spruce  woods.  One  thing  the  girls 
hailed  with  delight.  Right  up  through  the  cen- 
ter of  the  house  rose  a  great,  old-fashioned  round 
rock  chimney.  Three  fireplaces  opened  into  it, 
and  you  could  stand  in  any  one  of  them  and  look 
up  at  the  blue  sky.  Long  shelves  stretched 
across  the  tops  of  the  fireplaces,  and  there  were 
iron  cranes  on  each  side  on  which  to  hang  pots. 

"Where  are  the  grates?"  asked  Isabel. 

"Aren't  any  grates,"  responded  Tom.  "You 
just  lug  in  an  armful  of  driftwood  and  pile  it 
on  those  rocks  and  start  her  up.  We  piled  rocks 
around  outside  for  fenders,  'cause  father  thought 
maybe  the  sparks  would  hit  the  flooring  some 
day." 

"Won't  we  just  pile  on  wood  there  on  chilly 
nights,  girls?"  Ruth  exclaimed,  kneeling  down 
and  holding  out  her  hands,  as  if  she  could  feel 
the  blaze  even  then. 

"And  sit  around  on  cushions,  and  tell  stories, 
and  eat  toasted  marshmallows,  and  Aunty  Wel- 
come's hermits,"  added  Ted. 

"Oh,  poor  Aunty,"  cried  Polly,  in  sudden  dis- 
may. "I  never  told  her  where  we  were  going, 
and  she'll  think  we're  drowned  sure.  Let's 


YACHT  CLUB  127 

hurry,  now,  and  be  businesslike.  How  much 
furniture  is  here,  Tom?" 

"Ain't  any  at  all,"  said  Tom,  cheerfully. 
"Just  some  chairs,  and  a  table,  and  some  beds, 
and  dishes." 

"Well,  that's  aU  we'll  need,"  Polly  told  him. 
"Did  you  think  we  wanted  pianos  or  consoles?" 

"Those  aren't  furniture,"  said  Tom.  "Those 
are  just  fixin's." 

"Where  can  we  get  fresh  water?"  Kate  asked. 

"There's  a  well  at  our  place.  I'll  bring  you 
up  some  twice  a  day,  and  oftener  if  you  need  it. 
You  can  freshen  the  salt  water  for  cooking. 
Mother'll  show  you  how." 

"I  think  it's  splendid  to  have  near  neighbors 
like  you,"  said  Polly.  "Maybe  we'll  be  able  to 
do  something  for  you  before  the  summer's  over." 

Tom  poked  his  bare  toes  into  the  sand  sheep- 
ishly. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.  Mother  and  Nancy  are 
mighty  glad  you've  come.  It  gets  pretty  lone- 
some way  out  here  on  the  Sickle.  I  don't  mind 
it  so  much,  because  I'm  going  into  the  coast 
service  with  father  as  soon  as  I'm  old  enough, 
but  Nancy  wishes  she  had  some  girls  to  talk  to. 


128  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

There's  plenty  over  in  the  village,  but  that's  too 
far  off,  and  the  crowd  at  the  Orienta  or  the  hotel 
and  cottages,  we  folks  don't  see  much  of.  My 
Aunt  Cynthy  says  she'll  take  Nancy  any  time 
over  in  the  village  and  bring  her  up,  but  mother 
says  she  guesses  she'll  hang  on  to  her  only  girl. 
Nancy  likes  you  girls,  because  she  says  you  seem 
different." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"Oh,  you're  not  all  starched  up  the  way  the 
others  are  over  at  the  hotel."  He  squinted  one 
eye  at  the  sun.  "It's  half -past  twelve,  and  more 
too." 

Regretfully  the  girls  took  leave  of  their  new 
kingdom,  but  as  they  walked  back  along  the  bay 
shore  road  to  the  hotel,  they  turned  every  now 
and  then,  and  saw  the  little  blue  and  gold  pen- 
nant streaming  valiantly  in  the  breeze,  and  as 
Polly  remarked,  it  certainly  did  look  home- 
like. 

They  did  not  stop  at  the  Carey  cottage  going 
back.  It  was  a  good  mile  around  to  the  hotel, 
and  the  Admiral  was  waiting  for  them  on  the 
veranda. 

"Polly,  you  go  up  and  calm  Welcome,"  he 
said,  the  first  thing.  "She's  been  down  to  me 


lYACHT  CLUB  129 

about  sixty-nine  times  to  ask  me  to  send  the  life- 
savers  after  you.  You  run  up  before  you  have 
your  lunch  and  show  her  there  are  no  bones 
broken." 

Polly  obeyed  gladly  enough.  The  old  col- 
ored mammy  was  very  dear  to  her,  and  her  arms 
had  been  the  only  shelter  she  had  known  when 
the  Admiral  was  away  from  Glenwood  ever  since 
her  own  mother  died. 

"Deed,  chile,  if  I  ain't  powerful  glad  to  see 
you!"  Welcome  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  she  set 
eyes  on  her.  "Praise  de  Lord,  oh,  mah  soul! 
Has  you  been  way  off  in  dat  blazin'  sunlight  and 
no  parasol?  If  you  ain't  de  carelessest  chile  I 
ever  did  see.  You'll  get  so  freckled  dere  won't 
anybody  know  you  under  your  bridal  veil,  you 
mind  what  I  say,  now." 

"No,  I  won't,  Aunty,  truly.  Listen.  It's 
just  the  happiest  sort  of  a  place,  and  I  know 
you'll  love  it.  There  are  big  fireplaces  and  a 
wide  porch  to  sit  out  on,  and  you  can  see  way 
out  over  the  ocean  and  over  the  bay  too.  I  don't 
see  why  we  can't  go  over  as  soon  as  we  have 
finished  luncheon." 

"How  do  you  intend  totin'  me  through  all  dat 
sand?"  asked  Aunty  with  dignity. 


130  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"We're  not  going  to  tote  you  at  all.  We're 
going  to  roll  you,"  laughed  Polly,  as  she  reached 
up,  and  took  the  wrinkled  brown  face  between 
her  fresh  young  palms.  "Listen,  you  old  dear. 
Just  you  go  down  and  have  your  dinner,  and 
then  make  out  a  list  of  what  we  need  to  cook 
with,  and  I'll  send  Tom  over  to  the  village  after  it 
this  afternoon." 

"Is  dere  anything  to  cook  in?"  asked  Aunty, 
still  unmollified. 

"One  iron  kettle,  one  spider,  a  baking  pan, 
and  two  sauce-pans,"  enumerated  Polly.  "And 
some  dishes." 

"Well,  it's  a  mighty  good  thing  I  packed  up 
plenty  in  de  boxes,"  said  Aunty  solemnly,  and 
with  deep  gratification.  "I  felt  it  in  mah  bones 
it  was  a  desert  isle,  and  I've  done  kept  mah  eye 
on  dose  boxes  ever  since  we  left  Ole  Point  Com- 
fort behind  us.  I've  watched  'em,  and  I've  sat 
on  'em,  and  I  just  know  dey's  safe." 

Polly  said  nothing,  but  she  thought  hard.  She 
had  forgotten  all  about  the  two  big  packing- 
cases  that  contained  their  bedding,  and  general 
camp  outfit.  The  last  she  had  seen  of  them,  they 
had  been  stowed  away  on  the  lower  deck  of  the 
Hippocampus  for  safekeeping. 


YACHT  CLUB  131 

"Don't  you  fret  one  bit,  dear,"  she  said  at  last. 
"I'll  ask  grandfather  where  they  are,  and  if 
they're  not  here,  then  they  must  be  there.  Stoney 
told  me  when  I  lost  my  cap  overboard,  a  thing 
is  never  lost  as  long  as  you  know  where  it  is. 
Just  make  out  that  list,  Aunty,  for  us,  and  we'll 
hurry  up  with  luncheon,  and  coax  grandfather 
to  let  us  go  over  this  afternoon  to  the  club-house 
for  good." 

It  didn't  require  very  much  coaxing.  Polly 
herself  broached  the  subject  at  the  table  down 
in  the  long,  shady  dining-room,  and  the  Admiral 
told  her  she  might  do  as  she  pleased. 

"I'm  not  going  to  interfere  except  when  it's 
absolutely  necessary.  I'll  just  stop  here  for  a 
while  till  you're  on  your  course,  then  I'll  go 
South  again  until  the  regatta.  You  manage 
your  own  fleet.  I'll  be  on  that  veranda  for  a 
week  longer,  though,  and  if  there's  any  mutiny 
or  danger,  just  send  a  couple  of  rockets  and  I'll 
come  alongside." 

"Wireless,  Admiral  Page,  wireless,"  Kate 
corrected,  in  her  amusing  way.  "We're  strictly 
up-to-date,  you  know.  Polly  will  have  a  wire- 
less apparatus  over  there  sure  as  can  be,  and 
you'll  get  many  a  'C.Q.D.'  " 


132 

"Grandfather,  dear,"  began  Polly,  suddenly 
remembering,  "where  are  the  two  big  boxes  with 
all  our  things  in?" 

"On  the  way  to  the  island  this  minute,"  an- 
swered the  Admiral.  "That  is  once  I  forestalled 
you,  young  \sidy.  But  here's  one  question  I  can- 
not solve,  so  I  shall  have  to  put  it  before  the 
club.  How  are  we  to  get  Aunty  Welcome  to 
the  island?" 

Polly  meditated.  So  did  the  rest,  but  Ruth 
solved  the  problem. 

"When  the  wagon  comes  back  from  taking 
the  boxes  over,  send  Aunty  back  in  it." 

Polly  hugged  her  joyously. 

"Whatever  should  we  do,  Grandma,"  she 
cried,  "without  you  to  solve  things  for  us.  Here 
I've  been  thinking  we'd  have  to  blindfold  her 
the  way  they  do  elephants  to  coax  them  on  board 
a  ship.  No,  thanks,  I  don't  care  for  any  short- 
cake," this  to  the  pretty  waitress,  as  she  was 
about  to  place  a  goodly  slice  beside  her  plate. 
"I  must  hurry.  Crullers,  dear,  you  may  have  it 
all." 

"Polly,"  whispered  Isabel,  as  they  were  leav- 
ing the  long  dining-room,  "those  two  girls  at 


YACHT  CLUB  133 

that  little  table,  over  near  the  veranda  doors,  have 
been  looking  at  us  ever  since  we  came  in." 

"Maybe  they  like  us,"  Polly  said,  happily. 
She  always  took  the  cheeriest  view  of  everything 
as  a  matter  of  course.  As  the  Admiral  and  his 
fleet  of  clipper  builts,  as  he  called  them,  passed 
the  table  Isabel  had  mentioned,  Polly  looked  at 
the  girls  seated  there,  quite  frankly  and  inter- 
estedly. There  was  no  doubt  but  what  they  were 
sisters,  and  Polly  liked  them  at  first  sight.  The 
elder  was  about  sixteen,  and  the  younger  seemed 
to  be  about  Polly's  age. 

"I  wonder  who  they  are,"  Isabel  said,  when 
they  were  up  in  the  long,  cool,  double  parlors. 
"I  like  them  and  I  wish  we  could  get  acquainted 
with  them  before  we  leave.  They're  very  well 
dressed,  Polly." 

Polly  laughed  at  the  serious,  earnest  tone. 

"Isabel  always  judges  people  by  their  rai- 
ment," she  declared.  "I  know  if  she  met  John 
the  Baptist  in  camel's  hair,  and  Peter  Pan  in 
white  flannels  like  the  Senator  wore,  she  would 
drop  Peter  a  gracious  courtesy,  and  not  notice 
anyone  else  at  all." 

"Oh,  Polly,  I  would,"  cried  Isabel.     "I  am 


134  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

not  as  bad  as  that,  but  I  do  believe  that  clothes 
show  character,  just  as  cleanliness  or  good  man- 
ners do.  I  have  seen  ever  so  many  persons  whose 
clothes  may  have  cost  lots  of  money,  but  they 
looked  like  patchwork  quilts.  These  girls  didn't. 
They  were  dressed  with  taste,  and  their  dresses 
were  hand  embroidered  linen  too.  I  do  wonder 
who  they  are.  I  like  the  way  they  do  their 
hair,  braided,  then  tied  up  Dutch  fashion  with 
two  big  bows." 

"Do  you  want  yours  that  way,  you  blessed  old 
looking-glass?"  Polly  crossed  over  to  where 
Isabel  sat,  and  began  to  arrange  her  long  fair 
braids  in  the  same  fashion.  "It's  easy  enough. 
All  you  do  is  cross  them  over,  so,  and  then  tie 
your  ribbon  on,  and  let  it  flutter  a  little,  like  a 
butterfly  bow.  You  need  very  wide  ribbon  to 
make  it  look  right.  There,  now  observe  your- 
self, Lady  Vanitas." 

Just  then  Crullers  whispered:  "Here  they 
come." 

While  Isabel  was  trying  to  balance  herself  on  a 
bamboo  tabourette  so  that  she  could  catch  a 
glimpse  of  herself  in  the  mirror  above  the  mantel, 
the  other  girls  entered  from  the  corridor  leading 
to  the  wide  stair-case,  and  hesitated. 


YACHT  CLUB  135 

"Dorothy,"  called  a  pleasant  voice  from  the 
hall.  The  elder  girl  looked  over  her  shoulder, 
caught  Polly's  glance,  and  smiled,  then  they 
both  went  on  down  the  hall. 

"Ready,  mates?"  asked  the  Admiral  just  then 
and  Polly  inquired  who  the  other  two  girls  were. 

"Commodore  Vaughan's  daughters  from  the 
Orienta  Club,"  answered  the  old  Admiral. 
"And  very  mannerly  children  they  are,  too. 
You  will  meet  them  later.  I  was  talking  to  the 
Commodore  just  a  few  minutes  ago." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  we  shall  know  them,  any- 
way," said  Polly,  as  she  went  up  to  where  Aunty 
Welcome  was  waiting  for  them.  "I  wonder, 
girls,  whether  grown  people  speak  of  us  as 
'children.'  I  feel  half-way  grown-up  now.  I 
don't  think  I'm  a  child."  " 

"Listen  to  her,"  laughed  Ruth.  "And  she'll 
be  fifteen  next  December.  Don't  you  remember, 
Kate,  in  the  'Mikado,'  where  somebody  tells  the 
three  little  maids  they  are  not  young  ladies,  they 
are  only  young  persons." 

"Has  you  been  a-finding  dat  teehee's  nest 
again?"  asked  Aunty  Welcome,  severely,  as  they 
all  trouped  into  the  room  the  Admiral  had  re- 
served for  them.  "Ain't  you  'shamed  to  come 


136  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

along  a  hotel  corridor  giggling  like  geese.  And 
you-all  from  Virginny,  too.  Ain't  you  got  any 
State  pride?" 

"Oh,  we  will  be  good,  Aunty,"  pleaded  Sue 
and  Ted.  "Don't  scold  us.  Just  wait  till  we 
get  out  on  an  entire  island  all  our  own." 

"I  speck  you'll  bring  my  hairs  in  sorrow  to  de 
grabe  before  you  get  done,"  Aunty  prophesied, 
but  her  eyes  twinkled,  as  she  looked  around  her 
at  her  charges. 

It  was  past  three  o'clock  before  the  caravan 
started.  First  a  wagon  was  sent  around  by  the 
shore  road,  with  Aunty  Welcome  and  the  lug- 
gage. 

"That's  a  pretty  hefty  load,  son,"  the  Admiral 
told  the  sunburned  youngster  who  had  agreed 
to  do  the  hauling  down  to  the  Knob,  as  all  the 
shore  people  called  Lost  Island.  He  laughed, 
and  slapped  the  reins  on  the  horses'  backs. 

"Guess  the  colts  will  get  there  all  right,  sir," 
he  said.  "They  can  both  of  them  swim." 

"We'll  be  there  right  away,  Aunty,"  Polly 
called,  receiving  a  reassuring  wave  from  a  large, 
dark  green  cotton  umbrella. 

"Now,  I  begin  to  feel  as  though  we  were  get- 
ting down  to  business,"  Kate  said,  decidedly,  as 


YACHT  CLUB  137 

she  came  from  the  telephone  booth  in  the  hotel 
office.  "I've  arranged  for  our  groceries,  and 
they  say  they  can  send  a  team  over  about  four, 
because  they  deliver  goods  every  morning  and 
afternoon  to  the  hotel  and  cottages,  and  we  might 
as  well  receive  ours  that  way,  too." 

"Did  you  order  stuffed  olives  and  plenty  of 
chocolate,  Kate?"  Isabel  asked. 

"No,  ma'am,  I  did  not.  We  must  have  solid 
food,  the  Admiral  says,  and  no  nonsense.  Plenty 
of  fresh  vegetables  and  fruit." 

"Well,  I  like  the  incidental  trimmings  my- 
self," mourned  Isabel. 

"Ready?"  asked  Polly,  and  the  caravan 
moved,  Polly  and  the  Admiral  bringing  up  the 
rear. 

Just  then  the  two  Vaughan  sisters  came  down 
the  hotel  steps  dressed  in  dark  blue  linen  yacht- 
ing suits,  and  as  they  passed,  girl  fashion,  they 
smiled  at  the  strangers  without  the  formality  of 
an  introduction.  Polly  could  not  wait  for  time 
to  ripen  the  acquaintance,  but  paused  and  spoke 
to  them  in  her  impulsive  way. 

"I  only  wanted  to  say,"  she  began,  as  the 
other  girls  walked  on  with  the  Admiral,  "that 
we  are  from  Virginia,  from  Queen's  Ferry,  and 


138  ,THE  POLLY  PAGE 

we  belong  to  a — a — our  yacht  club.  You  can 
see  the  flag  flying  over  yonder  where  the  shore 
curves  before  you  get  to  the  Point.  We're  go- 
ing to  live  there  all  summer,  and  we'd  be  ever  so 
glad  if  you  would  come  down  and  see  us." 

"We'd  love  to,"  Dorothy  spoke  up,  warmly. 
"This  is  my  sister  Bess.  We'll  try  to  come  over 
some  day  next  week." 

"If  you  do,  we'll  show  you  how  to  sail  a 
yacht,"  Polly  said  encouragingly,  but  the  girls 
laughed. 

"Oh,  we  go  out  every  day  on  the  bay  in  our 
yacht.  You  can  see  her  from  here.  We  belong 
to  the  Junior  Sailing  Club  at  the  Orienta." 
Bess  pointed  eagerly  down  to  the  hotel  landing. 
"She is  named  the  Nixie" 

Polly  followed  the  direction  in  which  she 
pointed,  and  saw  a  slender,  close-reefed  yacht  ly- 
ing just  below  the  boat  landing.  It  was  clean 
and  looked  well-dressed,  the  same  as  its  owners 
did.  From  where  she  stood  Polly  caught  a 
sparkle  of  polished  brass  work  around  the  cock- 
pit. 

"We  have  plenty  of  boats,  but  we  haven't 
learned  how  to  sail  them  yet,"  she  said.  "As 
soon  as  we  do,  we'll  race  you." 


YACHT  CLUB  139 

"That's  a  challenge,  remember,  and  we  take  it 
up,"  returned  Dorothy,  laughing,  and  Polly  hur- 
ried ahead  to  join  the  others,  feeling  that  she  had 
won  two  friends  who  seemed  very  much  worth 
while  keeping. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    CAPTAIN    CALLS 

THEY  reached  the  island  about  four-thirty, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  day  was  crowded  with 
things  waiting  to  be  done. 

"Right  now,  in  the  beginning,  let's  start  with 
some  system,"  said  Kate.  "If  we  don't  we'll  all 
be  getting  in  each  other's  way.  Polly,  come  in 
here  and  stop  gazing  at  the  water.  Help  me 
plan  the  house.  There  are  three  rooms  up- 
stairs, just  plain  boarded  chambers,  but  they'll 
do  to  sleep  in  if  the  nights  are  not  too  hot.  I 
ordered  a  bolt  of  mosquito  netting,  and  we  must 
start  in  to-morrow  to  tack  it  up.  There  are  five 
cots  upstairs,  but  only  one  bed  downstairs,  in  the 
bedroom  off  the  kitchen.  Can  you  figure  out 
where  we  are  all  to  rest  our  weary  heads?  I 
give  it  up." 

Polly  considered. 

"Let's  give  Aunty  the  full  grown  bed,  because 
she's  old  and  will  have  all  the  cooking  and  wash- 

140 


YACHT  CLUB  141 

ing  and  ironing  to  do.  I  guess  we'll  have  to  get 
two  more  cots.  When  grandfather  goes  back  to 
the  hotel,  we  can  ask  him  to  send  them  up  to  us." 

"Where  will  you  put  them?"  asked  Kate,  quite 
calmly.  "On  the  porch  ?" 

"No,  ma'am.  Right  in  this  room.  Daytimes 
we  can  turn  them  into  divans." 

"Isn't  she  a  wonderful  schemer?"  Sue  put  her 
head  in  at  the  open  window  and  laughed. 
"Where  did  you  pack  the  chafing  dish?" 

"In  my  little  suitcase.     Why?" 

"Aunty  says  we  may  have  supper  out  on  the 
porch  and  save  trouble." 

"Then  I'll  fix  lobster  a  la  Newburg  in  a  jiffy." 
Polly  forgot  all  about  beds  and  such  ordinary 
things,  and  rose  at  once,  but  the  majestic  form 
of  Welcome  appeared  in  the  kitchen  doorway  and 
waved  a  cooking  spoon  in  her  direction. 

'  'Deed,  an'  you  ain't  a-going  to  eat  any  sech 
mess  before  bedtime,"  she  said  firmly.  "Yo'  keep 
your  patience  in  evidence,  chile,  and  your  obstrep- 
erousness  in  subjection,  and  I'll  have  some  friz- 
zled eggs  ready  before  you  know  it,  and  some 
toast  and  marmalade." 

The  Admiral  had  declined  staying  for  tea  that 
first  night.  He  had  looked  the  entire  place  over, 


112  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

and,  as  Polly  remarked,  noticed  points  they  never 
would  have  thought  of,  the  drainage,  the  shingles, 
and  the  condition  of  the  cellar.  He  even  went 
down  to  the  boat  landing,  and  examined  its  sup- 
ports and  noted  the  high  tide  marks  along  its 
piling. 

"Seas  went  all  the  way  over  there,  didn't  they, 
Tom?"  he  asked,  casually. 

"Well,  yes,  sir,"  acknowledged  Tom.  "They 
always  do  slosh  over  some  in  heavy  weather. 
Ours  do  too.  When  the  February  gales  hit  the 
Sickle,  I  tell  you,  we  all  jam  down  pretty  close 
to  keep  from  being  blown  clean  off." 

"How  about  the  bay?  Do  you  get  many  bad 
puffs  out  there?  It  looks  fairly  well  sheltered." 

Tom  nodded  his  head  with  comradely  under- 
standing. As  he  told  his  father  that  night,  the 
Admiral  and  he  were  good  mates,  and  understood 
each  other  perfectly. 

"Oh,  it  blows  up  now  and  then,  but  if  any 
storms  should  hit  us,  don't  you  worry.  Father 
and  I'll  keep  a  weather  eye  on  the  Knob.  You 
see  the  beach  patrol  passes  about  six  hundred 
yards  over  to  seaward.  Sometimes  I  tramp  it 
with  the  men  from  the  Station,  because  I'm  go- 
ing as  soon  as  I'm  old  enough." 


.YACHT  CLUB  143 

"You  couldn't  do  a  braver  thing,  my  lad,"  re- 
sponded the  Admiral,  thoughtfully.  "I  feel 
like  saluting  every  time  I  see  one  of  the  boys  who 
wear  the  fouled  anchor  on  their  sleeve.  They 
are  a  courageous  lot." 

While  Aunty  Welcome  was  busy  preparing 
supper,  the  girls  went  off  down  the  beach,  hat- 
less  and  happy,  with  sweaters  buttoned  to  their 
chins,  for  the  evenings  were  chilly  along  the 
shore. 

Polly  and  Sue  were  ahead,  and  the  rest  fol- 
lowed as  they  pleased.  The  tide  was  in  full  and 
high,  and  they  laughed  and  shouted  to  see  the 
long,  foamy  swirls  of  water  slip  up  the  beach,  up 
and  up,  each  time  a  little  bit  farther,  till  they 
all  sprang  back  for  fear  of  wet  feet. 

"Doesn't  it  make  you  think  of  all  the  sea 
stories  you  ever  read?"  cried  Polly,  her  eyes  shin- 
ing, her  long  curls  blown  back  by  the  wind. 
"When  I  feel  the  wind  like  that  in  my  face,  I 
want  to  be  a  viking,  and  stand  right  up  in  the 
prow  of  a  boat,  and  sail,  sail  right  out  into  the 
sunset." 

"You'd  look  like  the  Winged  Victory,"  called 
Kate.  "But  I  know  what  you  mean.  Like 
this?"  She  opened  her  white  sweater  coat,  and 


144  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

held  it  wide  to  the  wind,  like  wings.  "It  makes 
you  feel  like  a  gull." 

"Oh,  my  feet  are  wet,  girls."  Ted  sat  down 
on  a  rock,  and  deliberately  took  off  her  low  tan 
shoes.  "What's  the  difference?  I'm  going 
barefooted  and  have  some  fun." 

Five  minutes  later  Aunty  Welcome  looked 
out  of  the  kitchen  door  and  saw  a  sight  that  made 
her  fairly  gasp.  Carrying  their  shoes  and  stock- 
ings, a  line  of  barefooted  girls  clambered  up  the 
mass  of  rocks  at  the  Knob. 

"Well,  for  de  land's  sakes,"  cried  Aunty. 
"Who'd  believe  dose  wasn't  a  pack  ob  gypsies?" 

OBut  the  girls  waved  back  to  her,  and  she  had 
to  laugh  over  the  sight  after  all. 

"Those  rocks  up  there  are  the  highest  part  of 
the  island,"  said  Polly.  "Let's  go  clear  up  to 
the  top." 

The  girls  clambered  after  her,  over  the  slip- 
pery rocks,  rocks  that  were  gray  with  barnacles 
down  along  their  sides.  The  water  had  filled 
up  all  the  little  hollows,  and  Polly  bent  down 
over  one  to  examine  it. 

"Just  look,  girls,"  she  said.  "These  are  lim- 
pets, the  kind  that  open  their  shells  to  the  tide,  as 
if  they  were  thirsty.  You  know  them,  Ruth." 


YACHT  CLUB  145 

"Patella  pellucida,  semi-transparent,  sticks  to 
fronds  of  seaweed,"  responded  "Grandma,"  in 
her  deliberate  way. 

She  lifted  a  long,  wet  strand  of  seaweed,  and 
waved  it  in  the  air.  Something  fell  off. 

"It's  a  crab,"  said  Ted.  "Look  at  him  play 
'possum." 

Ruth  poked  at  the  shell  diligently,  until  she 
turned  it  over  on  its  back. 

"It's  a  horse-shoe  crab,"  she  said.  "They  call 
them  king  crabs  too.  They  shed  their  shells,  and 
then  they  are  the  soft  shelled  crabs.  They're 
regular  fighters  unless  you  catch  one  with  a  new 
shell,  then  he's  tame  enough." 

"What  are  hermit  crabs,  Ruth?"  asked  Sue. 

"I  don't  know  why  they  call  them  hermits,  un- 
less it's  because  they  steal  other  shells  and  live  in 
them." 

"Hermits  don't  do  that,  Ruth.  They're  just 
people  who  isolate  themselves  from  the  world." 

"Well,  these  crabs  like  to  live  all  by  them- 
selves. They  hunt  up  snails,  and  eat  the  snail 
and  steal  its  shell.  Sometimes  two  crabs  will 
fight  over  the  same  shell." 

"Just  like  people,"  Sue  said.  "I  think  it's 
awfully  queer  how  much  people  and  animals  and 


146  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

fishes  and  everything  look  and  act  alike.  Maybe 
we're  much  closer  related  than  we  think." 

"Now,  Sue,  I  refuse  to  have  this  crab's  pedi- 
gree traced  to  mine,"  laughed  Kate.  "Throw 
him  back  into  the  sea." 

"That's  good,"  said  Crullers,  solemnly. 
"Maybe  he's  the  father  of  a  large  family." 

Polly  tossed  it  back  into  the  next  upcurling 
wave,  and  they  all  made  up  some  poetry  on  the 
spot,  and  chanted  joyously. 

"Oh,  I  am  a  family  crab,  so  treat  me  quite  tenderly. 

There  are  generations  down  below,  and  they're  all  await- 
ing for  me. 

I've  sisters  and  cousins  and  aunts,  and  some  great-grand- 
children too, 

So  I  beg  you  not  to  cook  me  into  crab  a  la  Newburg 
stew." 

! 

Suddenly  a  hail  came  from  the  main  shore,  and 
they  were  silent.  It  was  past  sunset,  and  a  soft 
twilight  afterglow  was  settling  over  the  world. 
Coming  along  the  ridge  of  sand  from  the  Point 
was  a  lone  figure,  and  from  where  they  stood  it 
looked  immensely  tall,  outlined  against  the  clear 
orange  of  the  southern  sky.  Even  while  they 
hesitated,  wondering  who  it  could  be,  Nancy's 
clear  voice  called  far  down  the  shore, 


YACHT  CLUB  147 

"Ahoy,  dad,  ahoy!" 

"It's  the  Captain,"  said  Polly,  starting  to  put 
on  her  stockings  instantly.  "Hurry,  and  catch 
up  with  him.  Nancy  says  she  goes  to  meet  him 
every  night." 

They  slipped  on  shoes  and  stockings  quickly, 
and  ran  back  to  the  house  just  in  time  to  see 
Nancy  and  the  Captain  crossing  the  hummocks. 
Polly  never  forgot  that  first  look  she  had  of  Cap- 
tain Ben  Carey  of  the  Sickle  Point  Life  Saving 
Station.  Tom  was  a  pretty  good  reproduction 
of  him,  but  there  was  something  in  the  Captain's 
expression  that  Tom  lacked,  a  curious  look  in 
his  deep  blue  eyes,  as  though  they  had  always 
gazed  out  over  wide  distances.  He  was  tall 
and  broad  shouldered  and  mighty,  the  girls 
thought.  His  face  was  smooth-shaven,  but 
tanned  and  weather-beaten  and  crisped  into  in- 
numerable fine  wrinkles,  until  Sue  declared  it 
made  her  think  of  a  baked  apple.  His  hair  was 
thick  and  curly  like  Tom's,  and  his  closely  shut 
lips  seemed  to  be  ever  smiling  out  at  a  world 
that  even  its  Maker  could  still  pronounce  good 
as  He  had  at  its  first  dawning.  But  it  was  his 
voice  that  Polly  loved  best.  Such  a  rich,  hearty 
voice  it  was,  with  a  rollicking  roll  to  it  when  it 


148  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

burst  into  a  sailor  boy  "come — all — ye,"  and  a 
deep,  resonant  tone  in  speaking  that  simply  won 
your  heart. 

"Ahoy,  there,  ahoy,"  he  shouted  back,  as  they 
called  to  Nancy  and  him,  and  then  Polly  saw 
that  he  was  to  be  their  best  friend  all  that  long 
happy  summer. 

"It's  this  way,  you  see,"  he  told  them  all,  when 
they  had  led  him  up  on  the  porch  of  the  cottage, 
and  gathered  around  for  good  advice.  "I've 
told  the  Admiral  that  he  may  leave  you  here  alone 
any  time,  and  we'll  all  keep  an  eye  on  you.  Tom 
and  he  were  down  to  the  Point  awhile  back,  and 
had  a  talk." 

"And  he  told  us  he  was  going  back  to  the 
hotel,"  said  PoUy. 

"Well,  he  changed  his  course.  He  says  to  me, 
'Cap'n,  do  you  think  they'll  be  able  to  handle  a 
lot  of  yachts  alone?'  And  I  told  him,  'Leave  'em 
to  me,  sir,  with  an  easy  conscience.  I'll  keep  my 
mind  on  them,  and  so  will  Mrs.  Carey,  and  so  will 
the  children.  And  as  for  handling  the  boats, 
why,  Lord  love  you,  there  ain't  nothing  over  fif- 
teen foot  in  the  lot.'  My  Nancy  here  runs  all 
over  the  bay  in  Tom's  knockabout,  the  Pirate, 
and  her  own  catboat.  She's  been  out  around  the 


YACHT  CLUB  149 

Point  too,  alone,  in  fair  weather.  And  she's 
only  thirteen.  Tom  is  going  on  sixteen,  and 
I  guess  betwixt  the  two  of  them,  you'll  turn  into 
able  seamen,  and  learn  how  to  handle  a  boat. 
If  you  don't,  they  won't  sink  anyhow.  You 
want  to  learn  how  to  swim,  every  girl  jack  of 
you,  first  of  all.  What  would  you  do  out  in  the 
bay  if  the  boat  took  a  notion  to  stand  on  her 
beam  ends,  and  ship  a  lot  of  water  clean  over  into 
the  cockpit?  I'm  a  believer  in  swimming.  It's  a 
good  deal  like  unto  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  I'm 
thinking.  Learn  how  to  swim  first,  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you."  He  smiled 
around  at  the  circle  of  young  faces,  and  rose. 
"Come  on,  Nancy.  Mother '11  have  supper  pip- 
ing hot,  and  she'll  give  us  pickles  if  we're  late." 

"Oh,  please  wait  just  a  minute,"  begged  Polly. 
"We  have  so  much  to  ask  you,  you  know.  You 
believe  in  prevention  first,  don't  you?" 

"Prevention  first,"  answered  the  Captain,  a 
trifle  gravely.  "Indeed  I  do,  indeed  I  do; 
with  over  a  thousand  youngsters  dying  off 
every  year  at  our  summer  resorts,  just  from  care- 
lessness in  swimming  and  handling  boats  when 
they  don't  know  how  to  do  either  one  right. 
Why,  if  I  had  my  way,  I'd  take  every  land  lub- 


150  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

ber  in  the  lot,  and  put  them  through  a  course  of 
sprouts,  so  they  could  qualify  for  a  volunteer  life 
saver  ever  after.  Yes,  I  would." 

"I  can't  swim,"  said  Sue,  ruefully.  "And 
Polly  and  Kate  and  Ted  can  only  paddle  around 
a  little,  and  they  think  they  could  save  all  of  us." 

"Then  not  one  of  you  can  go  out  in  a  yacht 
alone  until  you  can  all  swim  like  a  school  of 
tommycods,"  said  the  Captain,  positively.  "If 
I'm  to  be  responsible  for  this  station,  I'm  going 
to  have  things  shipshape  and  seamanlike.  To- 
morrow morning  every  one  of  you  be  ready  at  ten 
sharp,  and  Nancy  and  I'll  be  over  and  teach  you 
how  to  keep  your  chins  out  of  water,  anyway. 
And  not  one  boat  shall  Tom  bring  over  until  you 
have  learned." 

"Captain,"  asked  Polly,  seriously,  leaning  for- 
ward with  her  chin  on  her  palms,  "Did  anything 
ever  happen  to  make  you  feel  that  way?" 

The  Captain  eyed  her  whimsically. 

"Found  me  out,  didn't  you?  Well,  I  don't 
care.  I'll  tell  you  about  it,  and  maybe  it  will 
make  you  keep  an  eye  on  the  buoys  and  signal 
lights.  I  used  to  have  a  knockabout  called  the 
Three  Widows — " 


YACHT  CLUB  151 

"What  a  funny  name  for  a  boat!"  exclaimed 
Crullers. 

"She  was  named  before  I  got  her,  by  a  skip- 
per out  of  Noank,  down  on  the  Connecticut  coast. 
Pretty  light  she  was,  too,  and  frisky  in  a  gale. 
Tom  and  I  could  haul  her  close,  but  I  didn't  let 
her  out  to  any  of  the  summer  folks.  Cats  and 
flaties  are  the  best  for  them,  and  then  they  can't 
drown  unless  they  jump  overboard.  But,  any- 
way, this  day  I  had  been  on  duty  down  at  the 
Point  all  night,  and  it  was  late  before  I  got 
home.  It  was  in  September,  and  we'd  had  a 
regular  run  of  nor'westers  with  thunder  storms 
and  general  equinoctial  cut-ups.  Most  of  the 
summer  folks  had  gone  home  except  a  few  down 
at  the  hotel,  and  while  I  was  on  duty  they  per- 
suaded Tom  they  could  sail  the  Three  Widows. 
And  they  didn't  know  when  to  stop."  The  Cap- 
tain paused  to  let  this  part  of  his  narrative  sink 
deeply  into  the  memories  of  his  listeners. 

"They  sailed  clear  out  around  the  Point,  and 
when  the  big  sea  hit  her  just  outside  the  channel 
in  the  open,  she  keeled  over  like  a  pasteboard 
box.  We'd  seen  them  by  that  time.  Billy 
Clewen,  the  keeper  at  the  station,  sings  out  to 


152  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

us,  and  we  got  the  boat  out.  There  were  five 
aboard,  three  lads  and  two  of  their  sisters. 
Three  went  down  while  we  were  getting  to  them, 
two  boys  and  a  girl."  The  Captain  cleared  his 
throat,  and  before  he  continued  he  looked  out 
over  the  bay  for  a  minute  to  where  a  lone  star 
had  lighted  its  signal  fire  in  the  eastern  sky. 
"The  last  one  of  the  lads  managed  to  get  his 
sister  where  she  could  get  a  grip  on  the  center- 
board,  and  the  two  of  them  clung  until  we  took 
them  off." 

"And  the  rest?"  asked  Polly,  softly. 

"That's  what  I'm  telling  you.  There  wasn't 
any  rest  left.  None  of  them  could  swim  an  inch, 
and  they  went  down.  And  that  night  their 
fathers  and  mothers  came  down  along  the  Sickle 
yonder,  and  they  walked  the  beach  with  us  men, 
walked  hour  after  hour,  and  sometimes  the 
women  folks  would  break  down  and  cry.  I 
found  one  of  the  lads  myself,  and  brought  him 
back  to  his  mother,  and  while  my  heart  sympa- 
thized with  her,  my  common  sense  asked  why  in 
tunket  she  hadn't  taught  the  lad  to  swim  and 
manage  a  boat  right  before  she'd  let  him  come 
nigh  salt  water.  There  won't  any  boys  or  girls 
that  I  have  dealings  with  go  into  it  till  they  can 


YACHT  CLUB  153 

swim  like  a  tommycod.  That's  all.  To-morrow 
at  ten." 

"We'll  be  ready,  Captain  Carey,"  PoUy 
promised.  After  the  captain  and  Nancy  had 
gone,  the  girls  were  rather  subdued  for  a  while, 
thinking  over  the  Captain's  words,  and  as  they 
stood  out  on  the  porch  after  supper,  and  looked 
seaward,  they  thought  of  what  that  night's  vigil 
along  the  lonely  shore  must  have  been,  waiting 
for  the  bodies  of  the  loved  ones  to  be  washed  up 
by  the  waves. 

It  was  strangely  quiet  away  out  there  on  the 
little  island.  They  could  hear  the  running  feet 
of  the  surf  along  the  shore,  and  its  steady  break 
against  the  rocks  up  at  the  Knob.  The  dark- 
ness seemed  to  fold  itself  around  them  like  a 
tangible  presence,  but  it  brought  no  sense  of  fear, 
rather  of  peace  and  restfulness. 

Over  on  the  bay  shore  there  were  plenty  of 
lights  to  keep  them  company.  As  Ted  said,  the 
hotel  looked  like  a  Mississippi  steamboat  with  its 
triple  rows  of  bright  lights.  Far  out  on  the  end 
of  the  Sickle,  they  could  see  the  Point  light 
blinking  like  some  great  eye. 

"Oh,  look,  Polly,"  cried  Isabel.  "Isn't  it 
beautiful?" 


154  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Polly  leaned  on  the  veranda  railing  and  nodded 
absently,  her  eyes  half  closed  like  the  Captain's, 
as  she  watched  the  bay. 

"It  makes  me  feel  as  though  somebody  were 
watching  us,"  she  said.  "Doesn't  it  seem  queer 
to  think  that  while  we  are  all  asleep,  the  life 
savers  patrol  the  beach,  taking  care  of  things. 
Grandfather's  a  sort  of  a  coast  patrol.  He's  on 
the  retired  list,  Rear- Admiral  Robert  L.  Page, 
you  know.  He  cannot  go  to  sea  any  more  on 
active  duty,  but  he's  our  coast  patrol,  and  he  sees 
that  all  wrecks  are  looked  after,  and  relief  sent. 
I  think  he'd  make  a  good  one." 

"You  don't  mean  that  really,  do  you,  Polly?" 
Isabel  never  could  catch  a  figure  of  speech  until 
it  had  been  fully  explained  to  her.  But  Polly 
only  smiled  and  straightening  up  she  started  to 
sing,  her  full,  young  soprano  voice  floating  out 
clearly  on  the  still  night  air. 

"Sunset,  and  evening  star, 

And  one  clear  call  for  me ! 
And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar 
When  I  put  out  to  sea." 

Softly  the  other  girls  came  from  the  inner 
room,  and  joined  in  the  old,  sweet  words. 


tYACHT  CLUB  155 

"But  such  a  tide  as  moving  seems  asleep, 

Too  full  for  sound  and  foam, 

When  that  which  drew  from  out  the  boundless  deep 
Turns  again  home. 

"Twilight  and  evening  bell, 

And  after  that  the  dark! 
And  may  there  be  no  sadness  of  farewell, 
When  I  embark. 

"But  though  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 

The  flood  may  bear  me  far, 
I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face 
When  I  have  crossed  the  bar." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  then 
Aunty  Welcome's  voice  came  from  the  kitchen, 
in  agonized  accents, 

"For  de  mercy  sakes  alive,  he's  got  me  by 
mah  toe !" 

Sue  was  the  first  to  grasp  the  situation,  and 
she  made  a  frantic  dash  for  the  door. 

"It's  my  pet  crab,"  she  exclaimed.  "I  found 
him  down  on  the  rocks  after  you  girls  had  gone 
away,  and  I  brought  him  back  and  put  him 
into  a  tin  can  in  the  kitchen  so  we  could  tame 
him." 

"Tame  a  crab,  you  goose,"  cried  Polly,  and 


156  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

she  followed  at  headlong  speed,  for  Aunty's 
wails  rose  higher  and  higher. 

The  crab  had  managed  to  wriggle  out  of  the 
tin  can  where  Sue  had  left  him  to  meditate,  and 
had  started  on  a  leisurely  examination  of  the 
kitchen  floor.  Aunty  Welcome's  big  toe  had 
proved  a  happy  diversion,  as  she  was  going  to 
bed,  and  he  had  caught  at  it  instantly.  Polly 
disconnected  him  with  difficulty,  took  him  down 
the  beach,  and  threw  him  out  into  the  water. 

"Now,  you  stay  there,  you  family  crab,"  she 
cried. 

"Oh,  Polly,  how  cruel,  when  I  wanted  to  tame 
him  and  study  his  construction,"  Sue  protested. 

"I  reckon  that  was  what  he  was  trying  to  do  to 
Aunty,  study  her  construction,"  laughed  Polly. 
"Let's  turn  in  now.  And,  say,  girls,"  she  paused 
a  minute,  her  face  suddenly  sober  and  earnest. 
"I  don't  know  just  what  it  is,  but  doesn't  it  truly 
seem  as  if  we  were  nearer  Heaven  away  out  here  ? 
I  wonder  why?  And  didn't  you  notice  that  the 
Captain  and  Tom  speak  of  God  as  if  they  almost 
knew  Him,  instead  of  just  worshiping  Him? 
Did  you  hear  them  singing  'Pull  for  the  Shore,' 
as  they  walked  down  the  shore  road  to-night? 
While  we  are  all  here,  let's  say  our  evening 


YACHT  CLUB  157 

prayer  together  out  on  the  porch,  and  put  in  the 
one  about  'all  perils  and  dangers  of  this  night.' 
You  know,  Ruth." 

So  out  there  in  the  darkness  the  girls  knelt, 
with  their  heads  bent  on  the  railing  looking  sea- 
ward, while  Ruth's  voice  led  them  in  the  beautiful 
old  evening  prayer. 

'  'Lighten  our  darkness  we  beseech  Thee,  O 
Lord,  and  of  Thy  great  mercy  save  and  defend 
us  from  all  perils  and  dangers  of  this  night ;  for 
the  love  of  Thy  only  son,  our  Saviour,  Jesus 
Christ.' " 

And  from  the  far  corner  of  the  veranda,  they 
heard  Aunty  Welcome's  deep-toned  response, 
"Amen,  chile,  Amen." 

So  ended  the  first  day  on  Lost  Island. 


CHAPTER  X 

A     HOME    ON     THE    ROLLING    DEEP 

AT  ten  o'clock  sharp  the  next  morning  the  girls 
saw  the  Captain's  dory  round  the  curve  of  the 
bay  shore  from  Fair  Havens,  and  make  for  the 
Knob.  Nancy  waved  her  hand  to  them,  her  face 
shaded  by  a  pink  sunbonnet.  The  girls  were  al- 
ready in  the  water,  paddling  around  in  their  new 
swimming  suits,  and  splashing  one  another. 
Ted,  Kate,  and  Polly,  could  just  manage  to  keep 
their  chins  above  water,  and  float,  but  the  rest 
kept  at  waist-deep  limits. 

"We  brought  along  some  ring  buoys,"  said 
Nancy,  as  she  stepped  out  of  the  dory,  and 
helped  run  it  up  the  beach.  "That's  how  I 
learned  to  swim.  If  you  just  hold  on  to  one  and 
start  out  with  your  feet,  you  can  learn  to  use  one 
arm  at  a  time." 

That  they  were  very  willing  and  obedient 
pupils,  even  the  Captain  had  to  admit.  Nancy 

158 


YACHT  CLUB  159 

was  the  teacher,  while  the  Captain  stood  by  in 
case  of  trouble,  and  gave  orders. 

"Let  yourself  go,"  Nancy  urged  Sue,  as  the 
latter  clung  closely  to  her  in  the  deep  water. 
"Just  let  yourself  go,  and  you'll  find  out  you're 
floating." 

Sue  obeyed,  willingly  enough,  and  the  next  in- 
stant a  pair  of  stockinged  feet  waved  in  the  air 
above  the  water.  As  Nancy  pulled  her  up, 
spluttering,  she  laughed,  and  insisted  on  going 
ahead,  and  before  she  realized  it  she  was  making 
the  stroke  properly  and  could  keep  herself  afloat. 

Polly  had  caught  the  stroke  almost  at  once,  and 
was  swimming  around  helping  Nancy.  Ruth 
and  Kate  went  about  it  practically,  counting  their 
strokes,  and  trying  first  in  water  up  to  their  arm- 
pits. But  Isabel  waded  in  and  sat  down  at  ease 
in  the  water,  just  where  the  waves  could  curl  up 
around  her  comfortably.  Then  she  proceeded  to 
loosen  her  hair,  and  give  it  a  good  wetting. 
Then  back  on  a  rock  she  climbed,  and  sat  there, 
letting  it  dry  in  the  sun. 

"Come  on  in,"  called  Polly,  splashing  her  with 
water.  "You  mustn't  sit  up  on  that  rock  and 
play  you're  a  nixie  or  a  mermaid  while  we  have 
to  work  so  hard.  Come  on  in,  and  swim." 


160  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Oh,  Polly,  I  don't  think  I  want  to,"  said 
Isabel,  anxiously.  "I  can't  keep  the  water  out  of 
my  eyes." 

"Fiddlesticks,"  cried  the  Commodore;  "come 
and  splash  her,  girls,"  and  they  drove  Isabel 
back  to  work  like  the  rest. 

"Now  then,  now  then,"  shouted  the  Captain  in 
his  rolling  bass.  "Keep  at  it  lively,  keep  at  it 
lively.  Tom's  coming  with  the  boats  at  noon  if 
the  wind  holds  fair,  and  you  must  learn  how  to 
keep  your  heads  out  of  the  bay." 

So  they  kept  at  it  diligently,  and  when  it  was 
over  they  went  up  on  the  beach.  While  they 
lay  around  in  the  warm  sand,  the  Captain  took 
Nancy  and  gave  a  regular  life-saving  drill  to 
show  them  what  to  do  in  case  of  danger. 

"First  aid  to  the  injured  class,"  Polly  called 
it,  and  it  was  a  good  name. 

"Don't  scream  and  get  excited.  That's  the 
first  and  last  rule  I  want  to  give  you,"  he  told 
them,  emphatically.  "What  would  you  think  of 
a  boat  crew  of  life-savers  whooping  at  the  top  of 
their  lungs  when  they  were  going  out  at  a  call? 
If  you  do  happen  to  fall  overboard,  or  you  see 
one  of  the  others  in  trouble,  don't  run  and  call 


YACHT  CLUB  161 

for  help.  Keep  cool,  and  get  right  down  to 
business." 

"Don't  people  who  are  in  danger  of  drowning 
try  to  catch  hold  of  any  one  who  goes  to  rescue 
them,  and  they  both  are  lost?"  asked  Isabel, 
doubtfully.  "I  should  think  it  would  be  better 
to  throw  them  a  buoy  or  a  life  preserver  or  some- 
thing." 

"That's  something  you  don't  worry  about," 
the  Captain  told  her,  comfortably.  "I  guess  if 
people  had  always  been  thinking  of  that  sort  of 
thing,  there  would  never  have  been  any  life  sav- 
ing apparatus  at  all.  I  sorter  feel  that  we  must 
leave  a  whole  lot  to  Him  who  holdeth  the  sea  in 
the  hollow  of  His  hand.  Now,  remember  what 
I  did  just  now,  and  how  I  did  it.  I'll  drill  you 
on  it  next  week.  You  never  can  tell  when  it  will 
come  in  handy.  Don't  start  giving  a  drowned 
person  strong  black  coffee  or  clam  chowder  the 
first  thing  to  brace  them  up,  do  you  mind  me? 
'Tain't  done  by  real  life  savers."  The  Captain's 
eyes  twinkled.  "Just  roll  them  over  a  barrel,  or 
your  knee,  and  get  the  water  out  of  them;  then 
take  hold  of  their  tongue,  using  a  piece  of  clean 
cloth,  and  get  somebody  else  to  work  their  arms 


162  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

up  and  down,  and  if  there's  any  beat  left  in  their 
heart  it's  going  to  start  up  again.  And  when 
you  do  start  them  going,  then  it's  time  enough  to 
give  them  coffee,  or  hot  ginger  tea,  or  anything. 
Mother's  great  on  hot  ginger  tea,  and  I  don't 
know  but  what  prayer  and  ginger  ought  to  be 
counted  in  with  the  first  aid  to  the  injured.  I 
use  them  both  myself  in  strong  doses." 

Promptly  at  eleven  they  all  straggled  up  the 
beach,  a  happy,  dripping  lot,  running  in  to  dress 
and  get  luncheon  over  before  Tom  came  with  the 
boats. 

"Do  you  think  we'll  do,  Captain?"  asked  Polly, 
when  she  reappeared. 

"Do?  Of  course  you'll  do.  I'll  come  over 
every  morning  on  my  way  to  the  Point  for  a 
week  and  drill  you  until  you  can  swim.  Now  you 
take  Nancy  and  Tom  out  with  you  this  after- 
noon. It's  calm  and  easy,  with  a  light  breeze 
blowing  off  shore.  Better  try  going  out  in  two 
of  the  boats  for  a  few  days  with  Nancy  and  Tom 
to  show  you  how  to  handle  them." 

Sue  ran  upstairs  to  the  "lookout,"  to  see  if  their 
fleet  was  in  sight. 

"Sister  Anne,  Sister  Anne,  do  you  see  anyone 
coming?"  called  Ted,  merrily. 


A  HAPPY,  DRIPPING  LOT 


YACHT  CLUB  163 

"Here's  Tom,"  Sue  cried.  "Oh,  I  wonder 
how  soon  I  can  make  a  boat  act  like  that." 

Tom  came  around  the  bay  from  Fair  Havens 
beautifully.  He  was  showing  off  his  sailor  craft 
freely,  and  the  fifteen-footer  was  as  tame  to  his 
touch  as  a  horse  to  the  rein.  Polly  watched  him 
eagerly,  as  he  brought  it  gracefully  to  the  land- 
ing. The  name  on  the  prow  was  the  Tidy 
Jane. 

"That's  the  best  sail  boat  in  the  lot,"  the  Cap- 
tain declared,  as  he  left  them.  "Nancy  named 
her  after  the  first  fishing  boat  I  sailed  on  up  to 
the  Banks  of  Newfoundland.  And  she's  a  good 
one.  She's  shapely  as  a  sloop-o'-war,  and  twice 
as  slippery." 

"Then  she  ought  to  be  the  flag  ship,"  said 
Kate.  "Why  don't  you  take  her,  Polly?" 

Polly's  face  fairly  glowed  with  pride  and 
pleasure.  Although  in  a  way  the  whole  club 
owed  its  existence  to  her,  and  she  was  the  ruling 
spirit,  yet  she  never  allowed  the  girls  to  give  her, 
as  Crullers  said  flatly,  "the  best  of  everything." 
In  a  hundred  ways  she  showed  a  steady,  loving 
generosity  and  unfailing  thoughtfumess  and 
courtesy  to  her  "crew,"  as  the  Admiral  called 
the  rest  of  the  club,  but  Polly  said  he  was  wrong. 


164  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"A  crew  mans  one  boat  or  vessel,  but  we  are  an 
independent  club  of  yacht  racers." 

So  to-day  when  the  Tidy  Jane  was  handed 
over  to  her,  she  hesitated,  saying  that  it  didn't 
seem  fair  to  the  rest.  But  the  rest  insisted  and 
Polly  consented. 

"Why,  I'd  love  her  just  on  account  of  her 
name,"  she  said,  as  she  ran  down  to  the  landing, 
and  stepped  over  into  the  cockpit.  "You  go 
back  and  get  the  other  boats,  Tom,  please.  We 
shall  want  to  look  this  one  all  over  till  we  know 
the  name  of  every  part  of  her  and  just  what  it 
is  for." 

"I'll  bring  up  a  knockabout  next,"  said  Tom. 

"What's  the  difference  between  a  eatboat  and 
a  knockabout?"  asked  Ted. 

"A  cat's  different  from  all  other  yachts  be- 
cause her  mast  is  set  right  up  in  the  eyes  of  her," 
explained  Tom.  "And  she's  broader  beamed, 
and  wider,  and  has  only  one  sail." 

"She's  a  beauty,"  Sue  exclaimed,  and  Polly 
nodded. 

"I  know  it,"  she  laughed. 

Tom  made  six  more  trips,  and  finally  the  last 
of  the  boats  lay  close  to  the  little  landing.  It 


[YACHT  CLUB  165 

was  a  long-remembered  afternoon,  as  under 
Tom's  guidance  the  girls  had  their  first  lesson  in 
sailing  them.  The  day  was  a  perfect  one.  A 
southerly  breeze  came  up,  just  enough  to  bear 
them  lightly  on  their  course  over  the  bay.  The 
Admiral  had  come  down  during  the  afternoon 
and  had  given  much  valuable  advice ;  but  as  Polly 
said  herself,  as  she  stood  on  the  porch  at  sun- 
down, her  face  already  tanned  and  sleeves  turned 
back  to  the  elbows : 

"All  the  advice  in  the  world  won't  help  us  to 
sail  these  boats  till  we  know  all  about  them  our- 
selves, know  every  bit  of  wood  in  them,  and 
every  inch  of  sail,  and  every  cleat  and  bolt  and 
pin—" 

"Don't  they  call  them  pintles?"  suggested 
Kate,  but  Polly  never  noticed  the  interruption. 

"And  we  know  what  they're  going  to  do  next 
in  all  sorts  of  weather.  But  I  like  it,  don't  you, 
girls?" 

"It's  glorious,"  cried  Ruth,  enthusiastically. 
Her  hair  was  hanging  down  her  back,  while  she 
brushed  it  vigorously,  trying  to  get  the  salt  water 
harshness  out  of  it.  "I've  named  my;  yacht  the 
Iris.  It  means  a  rainbow." 


166  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Mine's  the  Patsy  D."  Sue  said  compla- 
cently. "I've  always  wanted  a  boat  named  the 
Patsy  D." 

"Patsy  D."  exclaimed  Polly,  laughing. 
"Why  do  you  want  to  call  her  that?" 

"Because,"  said  Sue,  firmly,  "I  want  a  name 
that  will  be  simple  and  vigorous,  and  easy  to  say, 
and  besides  the  only  boat  I  ever  had  a  really 
happy  sail  on  was  named  the  Patsy  D.  It's  the 
excursion  steamer  that  runs  around  Chesapeake 
Bay  for  Sunday-school  outings,  and  last  year 
she  bumped  into  something  and  spoiled  the  shape 
of  her  lovely  nose,  and  now  she's  a  barge  down 
at  Newport  News.  So  I  shall  perpetuate  her 
memory  and  call  my  yacht  the  Patsy  D.;  and 
you  may  name  yours  after  all  the  rainbows  and 
other  beauties  in  creation.  I  believe  that  names 
should  be  suggestive  of  pleasant  memories." 

"Hurrah  for  the  Patsy  D."  sang  out  Ted 
from  the  couch  corner. 

"I  don't  care  if  you  do  make  fun  of  it.  She's 
the  Patsy  D.  all  the  same,"  said  Sue,  stoutly. 

"How  can  she  be  the  Patsy  D.?13  asked  Polly, 
teasingly. 

"Well,  she  is," 'retorted  Sue.  "Maybe  her 
real  name's  Patricia." 


YACHT  CLUB  167 

"My  boat  is  the  Witch  Cat  and  Kate's  the 
Hurricane"  said  Ted  slowly;  "so  we  shall  not 
have  the  trouble  of  naming  ours." 

"Tom  says  my  boat  is  called  the  Spray.  Do 
you  like  that,  Polly?" 

"Yes,  I  do,"  said  Polly.     "Don't  you?" 

"Not  very  much.  I  thought  I'd  change  it  to 
the  Lturline,  or  Lorelie" 

"I  like  the  Spray  the  best.  The  name  of  the 
yacht  Dorothy  and  Bess  Vaughan  sail  is  the 
Nixie.  You  don't  want  to  get  too  near  to  that. 
Crullers,  have  you  named  yours?  It's  the  small- 
est one  in  the  lot,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes.  Her  name  is  the  Yum-Yum.  The  sail 
is  like  a  junk  boat's,"  Crullers  announced, 
thoughtfully;  "or  a  bat's  wing." 

"Tom  says  the  boys  fitted  it  out  that  way,  just 
for  a  novelty.  It's  broad,  and  deep,  and  wide, 
and  positively  unsinkable." 

"I've  got  two  life  preservers,  and  three  ring 
buoys  in  the  lockers,"  Crullers  said.  "Tom  and 
the  Captain  put  them  in  there  so  I'd  feel  per- 
fectly safe  and  easy." 

"Safe  and  easy?  Safe  and  easy?"  Aunty 
Welcome's  voice  came  from  the  kitchen.  "Dey 
ain't  nuffin  on  earth  could  make  me  feel  easy 


168  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

a-sailing  round  on  de  face  ob  de  deep  like  a  levi- 
athan. You  couldn't  get  me  on  dat  waste  of 
waters  in  sech  a  liT  boat  for  all  de  gold  in  de 
bowels  ob  de  earth.  No,  sah." 

"Oh,  but,  Aunty,  you're  going  in  swimming 
with  us  some  day,"  coaxed  Polly. 

"Deed,  I  wouldn't  any  more'n  I'd  step  into  an 
open  grabe  and  pull  de  cover  in  after  me,"  pro- 
tested Welcome.  "Last  night  I  couldn't  sleep 
a  wink  a-listening  to  de  rolling  ob  de  waves." 

"Girls,  just  look  out  there,"  cried  Kate  sud- 
denly, as  she  rose  and  pointed  over  the  bay  to- 
wards the  Point  Light.  It  was  past  sunset,  the 
purple  hour,  as  Polly  always  called  it,  and  the 
whole  world  lay  wrapped  in  softest  violet. 
From  somewhere  beyond  the  Point,  a  deep, 
long-drawn  whistle  sounded,  then  another,  then 
another.  A  faint  sound  of  music  drifted  to  them 
on  the  night  air,  and  as  the  steamer  rounded,  they 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  cabin  lights,  a  row  of 
gleaming  diamonds  against  the  gloom  of  the 
twilight.  Then  a  search-light  sent  a  quick  arm 
of  radiance  flashing  over  the  bay,  and  for  a  sec- 
ond the  little  group  on  the  porch  were  right  in 
its  path,  before  it  swept  on. 

"I  didn't  know  any  steamers  ran  in  here,"  said 


YACHT  CLUB  169 

Polly.     "Isn't  that  splendid?     Perhaps  it  corneS 
often,  and  it's  really  company  just  to  see  it  go 

by." 

"It  must  be  the  Portland  boat,"  said  Kate. 
"There's  one  that  makes  a  landing  at  Eastport, 
Tom  said,  and  stops  first  at  the  hotel  pier,  be- 
fore it  goes  up  through  the  inlet." 

"Then  that  must  be  the  steamer  that  grand- 
father meant,  when  he  said  he  would  go  back  by 
boat.  He'll  go  from  Eastport  to  Portland,  then 
down  the  coast  to  Boston,  and  so  on  straight 
south." 

"Then  we'll  be  alone  away  off  here,"  said  Isa- 
bel, sadly.  "Doesn't  it  seem  deserted?  Think 
of  it  when  there's  a  storm." 

"And  the  thunders  roll  from  pole  to  pole," 
groaned  Polly,  mischievously.  "Sue,  get  your 
mandolin,  quick.  Let's  play  something  that  will 
'soothe  this  restless  feeling  and  banish  the 
thoughts  of  day/ ' 

Across  the  inlet  made  by  the  Knob's  projec- 
tion into  the  bay,  the  sound  of  music  floated  even 
to  Fair  Havens,  and  Nancy  stopped  her  even- 
ing task  of  washing  the  supper  dishes  to  listen 
at  the  open  door.  The  girls  over  at  the  Knob 
were  singing,  with  the  three  mandolins  and 


170  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

guitar  giving  a  splendid  accompaniment. 
Across  the  water  the  melody  seemed  indescrib- 
ably softened  and  enhanced,  as  the  gay,  girlish 
tones  rang  out : 

"Oh,  a  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 

A  home  on  the  rolling  deep, 
Where  the  scattered  waters  rage, 

And  the  winds  their  revels  keep. 
And  the  winds  (bing,  bing), 
And  the  winds  (bing,  bing), 
And  the  winds  their  revels  keep." 

"I  just  love  that  bing,  bing  part,"  said  Nancy, 
drawing  in  a  deep  breath.  "May  I  go  over  some 
evening,  mother,  and  hear  them  play?" 

"Indeed,  you  may,"  Mrs.  Carey  replied 
heartily.  "For  they  seem  to  be  as  warm-hearted 
and  well-mannered  a  lot  of  girls  as  I  ever  did 
see,  and  the  Captain,  your  father,  agrees  with 
me." 

"They're  not  like  those  Vaughan  girls  from 
the  hotel,"  Tom  said,  stopping  his  whistling  long 
enough  to  join  in  the  conversation.  "They  had 
that  knockabout  of  theirs  out  on  the  bay  to-day, 
and  when  I  sent  out  a  hail  at  them  they  never 
even  waved  a  hand.  Some  folks  haven't  any 
more  sociability  than  a  mosquito." 


YACHT  CLUB  171 

"They  waved  to  Polly,  Tom,"  Nancy  said; 
"but  then  I  do  believe  the  fish  would  stand  up  on 
their  tails  and  waggle  their  fins  at  her,  if  she  sang 
out  to  them." 

"What  was  it  that  father  said  about  her?"  asked 
Mrs.  Carey,  smiling  till  her  blue  eyes  were  al- 
most hidden  in  wrinkles,  as  she  stopped  her  mend- 
ing a  moment,  and  leaned  back  in  the  big,  red 
rocker  beside  the  south  window  where  the  roses 
climbed. 

"Said  she  carried  the  starriest  top-lights  he  ever 
saw  on  a  craft  under  her  t' gallant  eyebrows." 

Mrs.  Carey  laughed  as  she  turned  to  her  sew- 
ing. 

"Well,  she  has  a  pair  of  the  brownest  eyes, 
seems  to  me,  I  ever  saw.  And  she's  lively  too. 
I'd  a  sight  rather  have  those  girls  than  a  pack 
of  boys  raising  hob  over  there  on  the  island  all 
summer  long.  I  hope  nothing  will  happen  to 
any  of  them."  She  looked  out  of  the  window  to- 
wards the  Knob.  Its  outlines  showed  up  darkly 
against  the  night  sky,  but  the  music  had  died 
away  and  no  light  was  to  be  seen.  "I  think  I'll 
tell  the  girls  to  put  a  lamp  in  that  side  window 
every  night,  so  I'll  know  they're  safe  and  com- 
fortable." 


172  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

So  after  that  first  night,  all  summer  long 
while  the  Polly  Page  Yacht  Club  held  forth  on 
Lost  Island,  a  beacon  light  was  placed  at  the  side 
window  to  assure  the  Careys  all  was  well. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SMUGGLERS'  ISLE 

FOR  the  first  two  weeks  hardly  anything  was 
done,  except  steady,  earnest  lessons  in  swimming 
and  sailing.  The  excitement  and  novelty  of  it 
made  the  sport  a  delightful  one  to  the  girls,  and 
they  were  out  whenever  the  weather  was  good. 
During  the  morning  hours  the  bay  held  many 
bathers,  over  on  the  hotel  shore,  and  on  the  strip 
of  beach  at  the  Knob  likewise.  Afternoons  the 
white  sails  spread  and  dipped  like  gulls  out  on 
the  water,  and  the  Tidy  Jane  was  usually  the 
first  out  and  the  last  one  in.  After  the  first 
week  or  so,  Tom  and  Nancy  helped  only  occa- 
sionally, but  the  girls  were  doing  so  well  they 
did  not  need  much  direction  now. 

The  Admiral  returned  south  at  the  end  of  the 
second  week,  but  promised  to  run  up  for  the  re- 
gatta in  the  latter  part  of  August,  and  make  sure 
they  were  getting  along. 

"If  it  wasn't  for  the  Careys  I'd  feel  as  though 
173 


174  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

it  were  risky,  my  leaving  you  girls  up  here  with 
just  Welcome  to  see  that  you  have  plenty  to  eat 
and  don't  come  down  with  croup— 

"We  don't  have  croup,  grandfather,"  Polly  in- 
terposed, that  last  day,  when  he  dined  with  them 
in  state  at  the  little  cottage. 

"Well,  never  mind,  whatever  you  should  be 
threatened  with,  I  know  that  the  Captain  has  you 
on  his  mind,  and  you'll  he  looked  after  and  made 
to  behave  if  you  get  too  headstrong." 

"What  will  he  do  to  us?"  Ted  and  Sue  leaned 
eagerly  forward. 

"Put  you  in  irons  down  below,"  laughed  the 
Admiral,  and  he  sang  a  line  or  two  of  a  rollick- 
ing sailor  song, 

"Down  below,  down  below, 
Sailors  often  go  below, 
Storms  are  many  on  the  ocean, 
Sailors  have  to  go  below." 

But  they  missed  him  until  the  duties  and  ex- 
citement of  the  yacht  club  made  them  even  for- 
get his  departure.  Like  everything  else  she 
undertook,  Polly  went  into  the  thing  heart  and 
soul,  with  both  feet  and  hands  and  her  sleeves 
rolled  up,  as  Sue  said.  She  was  up  at  five  and 


YACHT  CLUB  175 

down  on  the  beach  with  Ruth,  hunting  over  the 
last  tide's  treasures  for  new  specimens  for  their 
collections.  Although  Ruth  was  seventeen  and 
Polly  not  quite  fifteen,  they  had  been  such 
staunch,  firm  friends  at  school  that  the  summer 
vacation  seemed  to  draw  the  ties  of  friendship 
all  the  closer. 

"Ruth  always  understands  just  what  I  mean," 
said  Polly.  "Everybody  else  thinks  I  am  too 
quick-spoken  and  changeable.  But  I'm  not, 
truly  I'm  not;  am  I,  Ruth?" 

"Yes,  you  are,  too,"  Ruth  answered,  in  her 
placid  way.  "But  I  like  you  for  it.  You're 
like  a  sea  anemone.  They  can  change  their 
colors,  you  know,  to  match  their  surroundings. 
And  I  think  it's  a  good  plan,  the  same  as  the 
chameleon.  Somebody,  Emerson  or  Thoreau,  I 
forget  which,  says  we  should  all  keep  our  natures 
in  tune  with  the  harmony  of  the  spheres.  What 
does  that  mean  but  adapting  yourself  to  your 
immediate  environment — " 

"Cut  out  the  big  words,  Grandma,"  Polly  said, 
briefly.  "It  makes  me  think  of  Honoria,  and 
I'll  get  homesick  if  you  don't  stop." 

"Well,  you  know  what  I  mean,  Polly,  don't 
you?  It's  why  you're  always  a  favorite  with  us, 


176  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

even  your  very  first  year  you  could  sit  down 
at  Calvert  Hall  and  listen  sympathetically  to 
Miss  Calvert's  detailed  description  of  how  much 
she  had  suffered  from  neuralgia;  then  you'd  go 
right  down  to  the  kitchen  and  cheer  up  poor 
Annie  May  and  tell  her  the  sun  was  surely  com- 
ing out  right  away,  and  her  'rheumatuz'  would 
be  better.  Then  up-stairs  you'd  fly,  and  help 
Crullers  with  her  Algebra,  Sue  with  her  English 
Literature,  and  me  with  my  Civics,  and  still  have 
time  to  get  your  own  work  done  before  class- 
time.  And  you  never  grumbled  one  bit." 

"No,  but  I  lose  my  temper  all  at  once,"  said 
Polly  dolefully,  as  she  picked  up  a  starfish  out 
of  a  tiny  pool  left  by  the  tide  and  straightened 
out  its  arms.  "Never  mind  me  now,  though. 
Let's  not  talk  psychics.  Look  at  this  fellow, 
Ruth.  Wonder  if  Sue  would  want  to  tame  him 
to  walk  a  tight-rope." 

Polly  lay  flat  down  in  the  sand,  despite  her 
fourteen  years,  and  examined  the  starfish  at 
close  range,  in  true  youngster  fashion,  while 
Ruth  poked  it  over  gently  with  a  long  splinter  of 
wood. 

"They  say  if  one  of  its  arms  breaks  off,  an- 
other will  grow  in  its  place,"  said  Ruth. 


YACHT  CLUB  177 

"Will  it?  I  wish  ours  would.  Think  how 
nice  it  would  be  for  all  the  cripples  if  their  arms 
and  legs  would  only  sprout  again.  Can  star- 
fish see,  Ruth?" 

"Indeed  they  can.  See  that  tiny  red  speck  at 
the  end  of  each  arm?  That's  the  eye.  It's 
mouth  is  underneath,  and  look  at  all  the  feet  on 
the  under  side  of  the  rays,  Polly.  They  say  a 
starfish  is  like  a  sieve,  all  tiny  holes  that  the  water 
runs  through." 

"Well,  this  one  is  going  to  be  dried,  neatly 
dried,"  said  Polly.  "It's  a  shame  to  do  it,  but  in 
the  interests  of  science  he  must  be  dried." 

"Don't  show  it  to  Sue,  then,"  Ruth  suggested. 
"She'll  want  to  tame  it,  surely.  She  wants  to 
tame  everything  we  find  and  make  a  pet  of  it. 
Tom  brought  her  two  turtles  this  morning,  be- 
sides a  tin  box  half  full  of  periwinkles.  She's 
trying  to  train  them  to  come  out  of  their  shells 
when  she  whistles  to  them ;  think  of  it,  Polly." 

"Ruth,  what's  a  chambered  nautilus?"  Polly 
picked  up  a  round  shell,  white  and  fragile,  with 
little  raised  dots  on  it  like  lace  work. 

"That  is  not,"  laughed  Ruth.  "That's  a  sea 
urchin,  I  think.  You  can  find  the  nautilus  only 
in  the  tropics.  They  call  them  Argonauts  too, 


178  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

did  you  know  it?  I  think  it's  pretty,  for  they 
say  they  can  rise  to  the  surface  of  the  sea  and 
spread  a  little  sail." 

Polly  leaned  back  her  head,  her  hands  clasped 
behind  it,  and  repeated  softly : 

"This  is  the  ship  of  pearl,  which  poets  feign 

Sails  the  unshadowed  main. 
The  venturous  bark  that  flings 
On  the  sweet  summer  winds  its  purple  wings, 
In  gulfs  enchanted  where  the  siren  sings, 

And  coral  reefs  lie  bare, 
And  the  cold  sea  maids  rise  to  sun  their  streaming  hair." 

"Oh,  I  love  that,"  Ruth  exclaimed,  pushing 
back  her  hair  from  her  face,  as  she,  too,  leaned 
back  to  listen.  "Say  it  all,  Polly  ?" 

"Not  now,"  Polly  shook  her  head,  "wouldn't 
it  be  a  good  idea,  though,  for  us  to  have  a  sea- 
poetry  night  while  we're  here?  Build  a  great 
driftwood  fire  on  the  beach,  and  invite  everybody 
we  know,  and  toast  marshmallows,  and  each  one 
recite  or  sing  her  favorite  piece  about  the  sea." 

"Fine,  Polly,  fine,"  Ruth  nodded  her  head  em- 
phaticaEy.  "The  Vaughan  girls  might  come 
over,  and  Nancy  and  Tom  and  maybe  Mrs. 
Carey.  Lets." 

They  wandered  away,  then,  towards  the  long 


YACHT  CLUB  179 

line  of  rocks  that  appeared  at  low  tide  at  the 
head  of  the  Knob.  Polly  said  they  looked  like 
the  Aleutian  Islands  in  miniature,  and  she  felt 
like  a  lady  Colossus  stepping  out  over  them.  By 
hunting  very  closely  around  them,  one  could  find 
what  Ruth  called  "the  enchanted  gardens  of  the 
sea ;"  little  pools  in  the  rocks,  with  sea  moss  that, 
when  turned  over,  was  full  of  life,  crawling, 
sprawling,  atomic  life.  The  finest  strands  of 
seaweed  were  away  out  there  also,  great  loose 
bunches,  some  like  fern  fronds,  others  like  live 
moss,  and  some  like  chains  of  big  brown  beads  or 
beans. 

"Have  you  found  any  limpets  yet,  Polly?" 
called  Ruth.  "They're  the  wisest  'possums  you 
ever  saw.  They  shut  their  shells  up  closely  when 
they  know  the  tide  has  gone,  and  then  when  it 
comes  in,  they  lift  up  the  top  like  a  little  tent,  and 
let  the  water  in  to  take  a  drink." 

Polly  had  taken  off  her  shoes  and  stockings, 
and  she  paddled  intrepidly  about  in  the  water,  and 
poked  after  new  things.  There  had  been  a  heavy 
sea  the  night  before,  and  the  beach  was  strewn 
with  strands  of  seaweed,  and  driftwood,  and  a 
fringe  of  shells  at  the  high  tide  mark. 

Among  the  odd  things  they  found  were  oysters 


180  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

fastened  in  all  sorts  of  strange  shapes  to  bits  of 
rock  and  wave-worn  stones.  Polly  found  a 
smooth  white  one,  nearly  a  perfect  oval,  with  two 
shells  opening  upward  from  it,  like  wings,  and 
she  called  it  Mercury's  slipper.  Another  flat, 
green  rock  had  ten  tiny  baby  oysters  clinging  to 
it,  the  shells  overlapping  one  another  like  barna- 
cles. 

So  it  went  every  day.  When  they  had  a 
good-sized  collection,  they  would  go  up  on  the 
porch,  to  sort  out,  and  share,  and  trade.  The 
prettiest  ones  they  saved  for  paper  weights,  but 
Isabel  and  Kate  refused  to  declaim  over  the 
oystered  rocks.  With  pails  they  hunted  up  and 
down  the  shore  for  the  pink  and  green  and  opal 
tinted  shells  that  Marbury  had  nicknamed  Nep- 
tune's finger  nails.  These  shells  were  very  shy 
of  the  land.  You  had  to  walk  along  the  very 
edge  of  the  water,  and  watch  each  incoming 
wave,  then  catch  the  wisps  of  shells  before  they 
slipped  back  into  deep  water.  Some  were  pale 
green,  some  a  cloudy  pearl  like  opals,  and  others 
were  deep  salmon  pink.  Some  were  iridescent, 
and  gleamed  in  the  sunlight  beautifully.  Isabel 
had  set  her  heart  on  stringing  a  portiere  to  carry 
back  to  her  mother,  and  Kate  was  making  one 


YACHT  CLUB  181 

for  Miss  Calvert  as  a  memento  of  their  summer 
vacation. 

Sue's  hobby  Avas  the  live  castaways  of  the  sea. 
While  the  other  girls  hunted  for  shells  and  sea- 
weed, she  it  was  who  sought  crabs,  lobsters,  fish, 
and  turtles.  Tom  brought  her  some  fish  poles, 
and  Nancy  would  join  her  as  she  sat  on  the 
little,  lopsided  landing  place,  fishing  tranquilly 
hour  after  hour.  Good  luck  attended  her,  too. 
Many  a  savory  mess  did  she  bring  up  to  Aunty 
Welcome  for  their  dinner,  and  several  mornings, 
long  before  the  other  girls  were  awake,  she  had 
sailed  away  out  with  Tom  and  Nancy  to  what 
the  former  called  the  Little  Banks,  where  the 
cod  ran.  One  day  when  the  wind  had  been  in 
the  right  quarter,  they  even  sailed  out  around 
the  Point,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  open 
channel  out  to  sea,  and  the  life  saving  station. 

"Nancy,"  Sue  had  said  solemnly  that  day, 
when  they  tacked  and  started  homeward,  "I 
should  think  you  would  be  so  proud  of  your 
father  you  wouldn't  know  what  to  do.  Don't 
you  know  that  a  life  saver  is  a  hero?  Why, 
down  home,  if  a  man  saves  anybody  else's  life, 
he  gets  a  medal,  sometimes  from  Congress,  and 
it  is  all  written  up  in  the  papers,  and  away  off 


182  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

up  here,  these  men  go  on  saving  people  and 
saving  them,  and  no  one  hears  anything  about 
it  or  seems  to  think  it's  wonderful." 

Nancy  nodded.  "Oh,  yes,  they  have  medals 
too,  sometimes." 

"But  not  enough.  How  many  people  do  you 
really  suppose  the  Captain  has  saved?" 

"Oh,  my,  I  don't  know,"  laughed  Nancy. 
"There  are  ever  so  many  of  them.  I  don't  think 
even  father  has  kept  track.  He  says  it's  just 
his  day's  work,  and  his  duty.  His  favorite 
hymn  is  the  one  we  so  often  sing  at  church  over 
in  the  village,  'Brightly  Gleams  Our  Father's 
Mercy.' " 

Nancy's  strong  young  voice  sang  out  the 
sweet  old  hymn  until  it  fairly  echoed  over  the 
waters.  She  was  at  the  tiller  of  the  Pirate, 
Tom's  catboat,  while  Sue  sat  up  on  what  Nancy 
called  "the  lid,"  the  little  deck  between  the  cock 
pit  and  the  coaming,  her  feet  dangling  over  in 
true  sea-rover  fashion. 

The  light-house  and  life-saving  station  stood 
out  in  silhouette  against  the  bright,  sapphire 
sky,  and  the  sea  had  the  glimmer  and  the  sheen 
of  a  blue  bird's  glancing  wing,  with  tints  that 
changed  prismatically  with  every  cloud  shadow. 


YACHT  CLUB  183 

"Nancy,"  called  Sue,  suddenly,  bending  for- 
ward to  take  a  better  look  at  an  island  they  were 
passing,  "what's  that  pile  of  rock  over  there, 
shaped  like  a  tower?" 

"It  is  a  tower,  or  used  to  be.  That's  Smug- 
glers' Cove.  Father  says  he's  heard  his  father 
tell  how  a  band  of  Nova  Scotia  pirates  used  to 
put  in  this  bay  years  and  years  ago,  and  land 
their  goods  on  this  island,  and  a  family  of  fisher- 
men lived  here  who  were  really  smugglers." 

"Are  there  any  left  now?"  asked  Sue,  her 
blue  eyes  wide  with  interest. 

Nancy  shook  her  head,  the  fresh  breeze  blow- 
ing her  yellow  hair  back  from  her  tanned,  happy 
face,  that  always  seemed  to  be  smiling  like  the 
Captain's. 

"They  didn't  play  fair  with  the  pirates,  and 
one  night  a  ship  was  seen  just  outside  the  har- 
bor, and  nobody  knows  her  name,  or  where  she 
was  bound.  But  after  that  night  no  living  soul 
was  ever  seen  on  the  island  again,  and  the  pirates 
never  entered  Eagle  Bay  after  that.  Father 
says  after  a  few  years  some  fisher  boys  ventured 
to  land  there,  but  they  didn't  find  anything. 
The  pirates  had  carried  away  everybody,  and  all 
that  belonged  to  them." 


184  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Maybe  they  left  some  buried  treasure  there." 
Sue's  tone  was  brimful  of  romance  and  wonder- 
ment, but  Nancy  answered  in  a  matter-of-fact 
way: 

"Maybe.  Nobody  knows.  And  years  ago, 
too,  there  was  a  big  French  boat  wrecked  off  our 
coast  that  was  blown  southward  down  the  shore, 
and  folks  say  there  was  treasure  on  board,  money 
for  the  French  provinces  up  in  Nova  Scotia  and 
Canada.  So  that's  down  with  the  fishes  too, 
probably." 

"Oh,  dear,"  said  Sue,  ruefully,  "and  here  I 
thought  it  might  be  some  place  where  we  could 
get  it.  Polly'd  find  a  way  if  there  was  any  sort 
of  chance.  I  wish  we  could  train  a  tommycod 
to  go  down  and  bring  up  one  piece  of  gold  at  a 
time." 

"It  isn't  in  pieces.  It's  gold  bars,  bullion, 
father  called  it." 

"Then  it  will  have  to  be  a  tame  tommycod. 
Just  wait  till  I  tell  Polly." 

Polly's  opinion  was  given  swiftly.  Her  eyes 
sparkled  as  soon  as  she  heard  the  story  of  Smug- 
glers' Cove. 

"Let's  take  lunch,  and  all  sail  over  there  to- 
morrow and  explore." 


YACHT  CLUB  185 

"The  Commodore's  word  is  law,"  replied  Kate, 
laughing.  "Aye,  aye,  sir." 

They  had  found  out  the  very  first  week  after 
their  arrival  that  a  row-boat  was  a  necessity  for 
shore  trips. 

"Something  like  a  dory  or  a  'dink,'  "  Ted  sug- 
gested. "I  know  my  brothers,  when  they  took 
the  yacht  out,  talked  about  the  'dink,'  and  it  was 
a  little  boat  swung  up  handily  to  use  when  the 
yacht  wasn't  needed." 

"That's  the  dinghey,  you  mean,"  Tom  told 
her.  "You  folks  over  here  need  a  dory." 

"Well,  what's  the  difference  between  the  two, 
Tom?"  Polly  called  from  the  inner  room,  where 
she  sat  writing  letters  home,  so  Tom  could  take 
them  over  to  Eastport  that  afternoon. 

"A  dory's  a  freebooter,  and  her  own  mistress," 
said  Tom,  "but  a  dinghey  belongs  to  the  ship  her 
painter's  fastened  to." 

"Then  we  want  a  dory." 

Accordingly  a  dory  found  its  way  over,  and 
became  part  of  the  club's  equipment.  The  girls 
liked  it,  too ;  they  averaged  from  two  to  six  trips 
a  day  in  it  over  to  Fair  Havens.  It  was  handy 
when  they  wanted  to  send  by  Tom  or  the  Cap- 
tain to  the  village  for  groceries,  for  they  could 


186  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

bring  them  home  in  the  dory  from  the  Captain's 
house. 

Friday  night  it  was  when  Sue  told  of  Smug- 
glers' Cove,  and  they  decided  to  picnic  there  the 
next  day;  so  early  the  next  morning  Polly  rowed 
over  to  ask  Nancy  to  go  with  them. 

"I  had  better  help  mother  with  the  cleaning," 
Nancy  said,  hesitatingly,  but  Mrs.  Carey  smil- 
ingly waved  her  away. 

"Land,  Nannie,  you're  only  young  once.  Go 
along  and  be  happy.  There  isn't  much  to  do  at 
all." 

"We'll  have  to  start  away  from  the  island  at 
about  five,  Polly,"  Nancy  said,  as  she  slipped  off 
her  big  apron  and  brushed  her  hair,  "because 
the  Portland  boat  gets  in  to-day,  and  she's  due 
at  six-thirty.  We  had  better  keep  out  of  her 
way." 

"Yes,  and  you  children  don't  want  to  catch  her 
swell  in  those  wisps  of  boats,"  Mrs.  Carey  added, 
firmly. 

"They  wouldn't  sink,  would  they,  Mrs. 
Carey?"  PoUy  asked. 

"Maybe  they  wouldn't,  but  they'd  ship  a  lot  of 
water,  and  rock  so  that  any  one  who  wasn't  used 
to  them,  might  be  thrown  overboard,  and  in  a 


YACHT  CLUB  187 

heavy  sea  like  the  Portland  boat  leaves  behind  her 
there'd  be  no  picking  you  up." 

Polly  forgot  to  tell  the  girls  the  warning,  and 
in  the  hurry  of  preparation  for  the  day's  jaunt  it 
slipped  from  her  memory.  Aunty  Welcome 
packed  a  mighty  lunch  for  them,  but  flatly  re- 
fused to  be  one  of  the  party.  It  was  their  first 
extended  sail  without  Tom's  company  to  reassure 
them  against  mishap,  but  the  day  was  perfect 
for  sailing,  and  the  yachts  took  the  breeze  as 
lightly  and  as  easily  as  gulls.  Polly  led,  and 
took  a  course  across  the  bay  towards  the  hotel, 
then  tacked,  and  started  straight  for  Smugglers' 
Cove.  The  Tidy  Jane  led  the  way  gallantly, 
clear  to  the  Cove,  as  a  flagship  should,  but  the 
girls  declared  it  was  no  proof  of  the  Jane's 
superiority  as  a  sailing  craft.  It  was  the  way 
the  Commodore  handled  her.  While  the  others 
handled  their  main  sheets  gingerly  and  cau- 
tiously, letting  out  and  tacking  slowly,  Polly 
was  ready  and  waiting  as  soon  as  she  reached 
the  end  of  the  first  course  to  let  go,  and  the  min- 
ute the  point  was  reached,  biff!  Polly's  sail 
slackened,  the  boom  swung  about,  and  the  cot- 
ton caught  the  puff  in  a  jiffy,  and  was  off  on 
the  new  stretch. 


188  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Some  day  you'll  do  that,  and  you'll  tumble 
over  into  the  water,"  Isabel  told  her.  "I  always 
expect  to  get  hit  on  the  head  when  my;  boom 
swings  about." 

"Then  you'll  be  like  Yonny  Yohnson,  the  little 
Swedish  sailor  from  Stockholm  that  the  Captain 
told  us  about,"  laughed  Polly.  "Listen,"  and 
she  quoted:  'Yonny  Yohnson,  he  yump  off 
yib-boom  into  yolly  boat,  and  spoil  his  yellow 
yacket.' " 

Crullers  was  always  the  last  to  get  started 
from  the  landing.  Yachting  with  Jane  Daphne 
Adams,  as  Polly  said,  was  a  serious  matter,  and 
she  gave  it  her  undivided  attention.  Her  sail 
was  different  from  those  on  the  other  boats.  It 
was  shorter  and  wider,  and  ribbed  crosswise  like 
a  junk  boat's  sails.  Tom  told  them  that  Phil 
and  Jack,  Polly's  cousins,  had  put  it  on,  just  as  a 
freakish  notion,  and  it  surely  was  freakish  to 
look  at;  but  it  was  easy  to  handle  and  Crullers 
liked  it.  There  was  no  cabin,  but  the  cockpit 
was  roomy  and  had  several  lockers  underneath 
the  seats. 

"Cabin,"  she  had  said  quite  scornfully,  when 
the  girls  had  said  it  was  too  bad  she  didn't  have 
one.  "Call  that  little  dark  hole  a  cabin?  Why, 


YACHT  CLUB  189 

it's  all  you  can  do  to  turn  around  in  it.  And 
even  if  I  did  have  one,  I'd  only  use  it  to  sleep  in, 
and  then  where  would  my  yacht  be?" 

"You  mean  where  would  you  be?"  laughed 
Polly. 

It  was  a  little  past  eight  in  the  morning  when 
they  arrived  at  Smugglers'  Cove.  There  was  a 
fine  beach  to  run  up  on,  and  the  shores  looked  in- 
viting. 

"This  is  a  perfect  cove,"  said  Ruth.  "It  must 
have  given  the  place  its  name  years  ago.  Those 
little  bunches  of  grass  over  yonder  look  like  an 
atoll,  girls,  the  way  they  bob  up  here  and  there 
around  the  shore." 

It  took  some  time  for  the  newly  fledged  skip- 
pers to  drop  anchor,  and  furl  their  sails,  but 
finally  it  was  done.  The  tide  was  out,  and  the 
girls  took  off  their  shoes  and  stockings  and 
waded  up  the  beach  from  the  boats,  carrying  their 
lunch  boxes  and  some  pillows  that  Aunty  Wel- 
come had  put  in  at  the  last  minute.  It  was 
comical  to  see  the  procession  of  eight  wading  in, 
each  with  a  gayly  colored  sofa  pillow  on  her 
head,  and  a  box  under  one  arm,  but  finally  every- 
thing they  wanted  \vas  ashore,  and  the  invasion 
of  Smugglers'  Cove  was  complete. 


190  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Polly  said  it  would  be  better  to  explore  before 
the  sun  rose  high,  and  they  started  off,  taking 
the  beach  as  the  surest  path.  It  was  even  a  bet- 
ter strip  of  sand  than  they  had  at  the  Knob,  firm 
and  beautifully  white,  with  the  remains  of  mil- 
lions of  infinitely  tiny  shells  crumbling  into  it. 
Polly  took  up  a  handful  of  sand  and  called  Ruth 
to  come  and  look  at  it. 

"I  wish  we  had  a  microscope.  It's  all  frag- 
ments of  shells.  Isn't  it  lovely,  Ruth?" 

"Wait  till  you  see  the  Castle,"  Nancy  called. 
"That's  what  everybody  along  shore  calls  it, 
Smugglers'  Castle.  The  walls  are  made  of  rocks 
and  shells,  and  a  sort  of  clay  with  shells  stuck 
in  it." 

"Like  the  old  walls  at  St.  Augustine,"  Polly 
exclaimed.  "They  are  like  mosaic,  the  shells  are 
matched  in  so  perfectly." 

"Oh,  girls,  I  just  thought  of  a  good  plan," 
Kate  remarked,  suddenly.  "Wouldn't  it  be 
dandy  for  us  to  keep  a  log-book?" 

"But  do  yacht  clubs  keep  them?"  Isabel  said 
dubiously. 

"I  don't  know  whether  they  do  or  not,"  Kate 
returned.  "But  I  think  it  would  be  fine  for  this 
yacht  club  to.  Keep  a  regular  daybook  of  gen- 


YACHT  CLUB  191 

eral  events,  I  mean,  everything  that  happens  to 
us  of  general  interest.  Then  at  the  end  of  the 
vacation,  have  eight  copies,  and  bind  them  in 
linen  covers  to  keep  as  souvenirs." 

"Kate,  we'll  do  it,"  Polly  said,  appro vingly. 
"Call  it  the  Memory  Log  Book  of  the  Castaways 
of  Lost  Island." 

"What  a  dandy  place  for  ghosts,"  Sue  called 
back  to  them,  as  she  climbed  up  the  rocks,  her 
shoes  and  stockings  in  her  hand. 

"Girls,  look  at  this!"  Polly  stopped  short, 
and  pointed  down  at  the  beach.  There  were 
footsteps  plainly  to  be  seen  in  the  sand. 

"Who  on  earth  could  it  be?"  Isabel  gasped, 
while  Nancy  ran  down  the  shore,  and  knelt  to 
look  at  them  more  closely.  Polly's  eyes  danced 
with  fun,  and  she  sang  softly  under  her  breath: 

"Oh,  Robinson  Crusoe,  he  lived  alone, 

On  a  little  island,  he  called  his  own, 
No  one  to  say  when  he  came  home, 

Robinson  Crusoe, 
What  made  you  do  so?" 

"Don't,  Polly,  please,"  Ruth  said  softly,  her 
face  rather  anxious.  "You  can't  tell  who  may 
be  here  now,  looking  at  us,  when  we  can't  see 
them." 


192  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Who  cares?"  Polly  laughed,  merrily.  "It 
makes  it  all  the  better.  I  never  read  about  an 
island  yet  but  what  it  had  savages,  or  pirates,  or 
something  on  it  to  make  it  interesting.  This 
pirate  wears  real  shoes  anyway,  so  he's  partly 
civilized.  You  can  tell  by  the  footprints  in  the 
sand.  But  what  are  all  these  other  funny  marks 
all  around.  One,  two,  three,  one,  two,  three,  as 
if  a  campstool  had  danced  a  jig  in  the  wet  sand." 

"Maybe  it's  somebody  clamming,"  said  Crul- 
lers, hopefully. 

"You  don't  clam  that  way,"  Polly  told  her. 
"You  dig  for  clams.  You  don't  spear  them." 

"I  don't,"  Ted  said  quite  seriously.  "I  take 
my  mandolin  and  sit  down  on  the  sand,  and  play 
to  them,  and  they  all  come  out  and  smile  at  me." 

"You  silly  goose,"  Polly  laughed,  but  Ted  ran 
on  ahead  after  Sue.  She  had  vanished  suddenly 
over  the  rocky  ledge  ahead.  They  could  hear 
her  in  the  distance  singing  "Nancy  Lee"  at  the 
top  of  her  healthy  young  lungs ;  then  all  at  once 
there  was  a  dead  silence. 

"Maybe  they've  caught  her,"  whispered  Isa- 
bel. "Let's  run  for  the  boats." 

"Run,  and  leave  Sue  behind?"  Polly's  tone 
was  full  of  reproach.  "Not  if  I  know  it.  Here 


YACHT  CLUB  193 

are  seven  of  us,  and  we're  all  good  and  hearty. 
We'll  go  and  find  out  the  trouble." 

They  turned  away  from  the  beach  and  started 
up  the  rocks,  Nancy  and  Polly  leading.  At  the 
top  they  paused.  The  entire  island  lay  out- 
spread before  them.  It  was  a  mass  of  sand,  with 
gradually  rising  rock  ledges  towards  its  center, 
and  scrub  pines  and  willows  everywhere.  Right 
in  the  center,  on  the  highest  rock,  rose  the  Castle, 
or  "Smugglers'  Tower,"  as  it  had  been  called. 
It  was  built  over  the  site  of  the  old  fisherman's 
hut,  and  was  half  overgrown  by  moss,  vines,  and 
clambering  shrubs.  Inside  the  ruins,  willows 
and  young  birches  had  grown  up  in  defiance  of 
the  place.  But  Sue  was  nowhere  in  sight,  and 
they  could  see  all  over  the  island  from  where  they 
stood. 


CHAPTER  XII 

"GIRL  OVERBOARD!" 

"DON'T  call  out  to  her,"  whispered  Polly. 
"Wait  here  just  a  minute,  while  I  climb  down 
these  rocks.  This  is  the  way  she  went,  you  can 
see  her  tracks." 

"Tracks,  on  a  rocky  path,"  murmured  Ted, 
helplessly.  "Polly,  where  are  they?  I  don't 
see  any?" 

"Here,  where  the  grass  is  trodden  down. 
Now,  don't  get  frightened.  Just  wait  for  me." 
Polly  started  down  the  rocky  path,  and  at  its 
base  looked  around  cautiously.  Not  a  living 
soul  was  in  sight  anywhere,  but  even  while  she 
hesitated,  she  saw  Sue's  form  come  apparently 
out  of  the  ground  itself  over  in  a  rocky  en- 
closure, well  sheltered  from  wind  and  wave. 
Polly  turned,  called  to  the  rest  to  follow,  and  ran 
ahead  to  join  Sue. 

"It's  a  camp,"  Sue  said  excitedly,  as  she 
reached  her.  "And  there's  a  real  cave,  Polly, 

194 


YACHT  CLUB  195 

and  a  bed  in  it,  and  dishes,  and  the  bed's  just 
been  slept  in,  and  there's  a  coffee  pot  in  there 
that's  still  warm." 

"Sue,  I  never  knew  you  were  such  a  splendid 
detective,"  Polly  answered,  warmly.  "Let's 
drink  the  pirates'  coffee  right  away." 

But  Ruth  and  Kate  arrived  and  advised  cau- 
tion until  they  found  out  just  what  the  mystery 
was. 

"It's  probably  only  some  fishermen,"  said 
Nancy,  in  her  matter-of-fact  way.  "Father'd  be 
sure  to  know  if  any  strangers  had  arrived  and 
settled  here." 

Polly  started  for  the  entrance  to  the  cave. 

"There  may  be  somebody  in  there,"  Ruth 
cried.  "Please  don't  go  in." 

"There's  nobody  at  home,"  Sue  replied.  "I've 
been  in." 

It  was  a  good-sized  cave,  Polly  saw,  as  soon 
as  she  ventured  into  it.  The  floor  was  of  finest 
sand.  There  was  a  bed,  a  very  primitive  bed, 
but  yet  a  bed,  made  of  branches  of  pine  with 
blankets  spread  over  them.  Some  boxes  served 
as  seats,  and  a  ledge  of  rock  as  a  shelf  for  some 
dishes.  But  Polly's  quick  eyes  noticed  a  couple 
of  suitcases  in  one  corner  and  sundry  articles  of 


196  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

clothing  lying  around  such  as  no  consistent 
smuggler  or  pirate  would  have  deigned  to  don. 
When  she  came  out  into  the  sunlight  and  faced 
the  girls,  she  was  smiling. 

"Do  fishermen  around  here  have  books  and 
magazines  lying  around  in  caves?"  she  asked. 
"There  are  all  sorts  of  such  things  in  this  cave." 

"Well,  anyway,  Polly,"  Kate  put  in,  in  her 
level-headed  way,  "whatever  they  have  in  there, 
we  have  no  business  going  in  and  rummaging 
around,  and  they'll  very  soon  tell  us  so  if  they 
appear  suddenly.  I  move  that  we  vanish." 

The  motion  was  carried  unanimously,  and  the 
girls  climbed  the  path  back  to  the  Castle. 

"We  can  watch  anyone  who  comes,  from  up 
here,"  Polly  said.  "They'll  see  the  yachts  any- 
way, and  know  they  have  visitors." 

"Maybe  they  have  already,"  Kate  suggested. 
"Maybe  that's  what  ails  them.  Maybe  they've 
seen  us  and  have  run  away  to  hide." 

"Oh,  such  a  hive  of  maybes,"  laughed  Ruth. 
"Still,  maybe  it's  so,  Polly." 

The  idea  gave  them  fresh  courage,  and  they 
hurried  to  the  Castle,  and  hunted  all  over  its 
ruins,  enthusiastic  over  the  outlook  for  adven- 
ture. But  even  when  they  had  reached  the  top- 


YACHT  CLUB  197 

most  point  and  the  entire  island  lay  before  them, 
not  a  sign  of  life  did  they  detect.  Save  for  their 
own  pretty  fleet,  riding  at  anchor  down  in  the 
cove,  the  shore  was  deserted,  and  not  a  single 
sound  disturbed  the  air. 

"I  think  whoever  it  is  has  gone  fishing  for  his 
breakfast,"  Nancy  said,  decidedly.  "And  it's 
probably  only  some  of  the  boys  from  the  sum- 
mer cottages  or  the  hotel,  having  a  little  camp 
for  a  day  or  two.  Let's  go  along  as  if  nothing 
had  happened,  and  if  they  should  come  back, 
we'll  just  tell  them  we  came  over  to  see  the 
island  and  didn't  know  it  had  any  people  on  it." 

It  seemed  to  be  the  only  sensible  thing  to  do, 
so  the  girls  agreed.  As  Ruth  said,  in  these  days 
it  was  hardly  likely  there  were  pirates  on  the 
island,  and  a  party  of  ordinary  campers  wouldn't 
eat  them  up  or  open  fire  on  them  from  any  secret 
place.  So  in  spite  of  their  curiosity  and  natural 
uneasiness,  the  girls  managed  to  spend  a  happy 
day.  They  dug  clams  and  roasted  them  down 
on  the  beach  for  lunch,  and  even  borrowed  a  few 
things  from  the  cave  outfit,  pepper  and  salt, 
some  forks,  and  an  extra  bottle  of  Chili  sauce. 
With  a  plentiful  supply  of  crackers,  and  all  that 
Aunty  Welcome  had  put  into  their  lunch  boxes 


198  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

besides,  it  was  a  feast.  After  it  was  over,  the 
girls  returned  what  they  had  borrowed,  and 
placed  a  conspicuous  sign  on  them,  written  by 
Polly: 

"DEAR  SMUGGLER: 

"Thank  you  for  your  pepper,  salt  and  Chili  sauce.  We 
leave  in  return  this  jar  of  Aunty  Welcome's  marmalade, 
and  half  a  nut  cake,  and  six  crullers,  and  some  hermits. 
Do  you  know  what  hermits  are?  We  thought  it  would  be 
appropriate  to  give  you  some." 

"Put  in  an  invitation  for  him  to  come  over  and 
see  us,"  Ted  added,  after  the  six  had  stood  off 
and  regarded  the  sign  critically.  So  Polly 
added  down  at  the  bottom, 

"And  we  should  be  happy  to  entertain  you  at  any  time 
at  the  yacht  club  on  Lost  Island." 

"But  what  if  he  should  come?"  asked  Isabel. 

"He  won't,"  retorted  Polly,  happily. 
"Smugglers  aren't  a  bit  sociable.  But  if  he 
should,  we'll  survey  him  in  the  offing,  and  if  he 
comes  in  a  long,  low  rakish  looking  craft,  we'll 
all  take  to  our  heels,  and  run  at  once  for  Fair 
Havens.  This  is  what  grandfather  would  say 
was  a  courtly  and  polite  thing  to  do  after  we  had 
taken  his  Chili  sauce,  and  it  really  was  extra 
nice." 


YACHT  CLUB  199 

Later  Kate  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  ruined 
tower  again,  and  returned,  after  making  a  care- 
ful observation. 

"When  you  were  in  the  cave,  Polly,  did  it 
seem  to  grow  larger  towards  the  interior?" 

"I  think  so.  I  could  stand  up  in  it  easily,  and 
it  arched  at  the  back." 

"I  don't  think  it's  a  cave  at  all.  I  was  on  a 
direct  line  with  it  up  in  the  tower  from  the  place 
where  I  stood,  and  I'm  wondering  if  it  isn't  a 
passage  cut  through  to  the  tower  to  make  a  way 
of  escape  at  some  time." 

"Kate,  I  never  thought  that  you  were  a  ro- 
mancer," laughed  Polly.  "If  it  had  been 
Isabel,  we  wouldn't  have  been  surprised,  but  for 
you — "  she  shook  her  head  doubtfully.  "I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  there  were  sea  chests  of  gold, 
and  all  sorts  of  loot  hidden  away  in  there,  but 
I'm  not  going  in  after  them.  Come  on,  girls. 
It's  after  five,  and  the  wind  will  die  down  soon." 

"I  don't  see  how  we're  going  to  beat  back 
against  it,  anyway,"  Isabel  said.  "It's  blowing 
this  way  from  the  Knob  instead  of  towards  it." 

"Oh,  we'll  get  back  some  way,"  Polly  led  the 
way  down  the  rocks  to  the  shore,  and  the  rest 
followed.  But  it  took  some  time  to  gather  up 


200  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

the  shells  and  seaweed  they  had  collected,  so  that 
when  they  were  ready  to  start  the  sun  was  slop- 
ing well  down  in  the  west,  towards  the  back  of 
Bald  Bluff  on  the  ocean  shore. 

Crullers  had  a  hard  time  getting  started. 
The  other  girls  were  well  along  on  their  course, 
before  she  left  the  shelter  of  the  Cove,  and  even 
then,  she  failed  to  catch  the  puff  of  wind  that 
should  have  carried  her  towards  the  inlet,  where 
Polly  said,  they  would  tack,  and  cut  across  the 
bay  in  a  triangle. 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  do  it,  Polly,"  Kate 
said  doubtfully. 

"The  wind  will  change  when  the  tide  comes 
in,"  Polly  called.  "We'll  be  all  right." 

"Oh,  Polly,  look  at  Crullers,'*  Sue  cried,  all  at 
once,  as  she  happened  to  glance  back  over  her 
shoulder.  "She's  off  the  course,  and  making  for 
the  open  channel." 

The  yachts  were  spread  out  like  a  line  of 
geese,  one  behind  the  other,  and  Crullers'  was 
last  of  all.  Polly  stood  up,  one  hand  on  her  til- 
ler, and  looked  back.  Crullers  was  waving 
wildly  and  shouting  something  to  them,  but  the 
wind  carried  her  voice  the  other  way.  And  the 
little,  broad-keeled  "cat"  was  taking  her  own 


YACHT  CLUB  201 

pleasure,  headed  merrily  for  the  open  channel. 

"Crullers,  sit  down  and  steer,"  shouted  Polly. 

"I  can't,"  cried  Crullers,  helplessly,  "the 
wooden  thing  in  the  handle  part  of  it's  broken." 

"Now  what  does  she  mean  by  that,  the  little 
lubber,"  thought  Polly.  "It  must  be  the  pintle 
bolt.  "I'm  glad  she's  got  three  ring  buoys  in  the 
locker." 

The  other  girls  were  dazed  and  couldn't  think 
what  to  do.  Polly  slackened  her  sail,  and  put 
about.  As  she  passed  the  others,  she  called  to 
them  to  keep  along  as  they  were  and  she  would 
look  after  Crullers. 

"I  don't  see  what  she's  making  all  that  noise 
about,"  Sue  exclaimed,  as  they  heard  Crullers 
calling  to  them,  frantically.  "That  boat  of  hers 
wouldn't  sink  if  you  jumped  on  it,  and  she's  got 
all  those  life  preservers  packed  away  in  the  lock- 
ers, and  the  buoys  too.  There's  no  danger  at  all. 
She's  just  scared." 

But  suddenly  there  came  a  sound  from  the 
channel  that  made  their  blood  chill,  the  long,  hol- 
low boom  of  a  steamer's  signal. 

"Polly!  Polly!  Polly!"  cried  poor  Crullers, 
in  agony,  and  then  they  saw  her  drop  down  in 
the  boat,  and  cover  her  face  with  her  hands. 


202  ,THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"It's  the  City  of  Portland  coming  in,  Polly," 
Kate  shouted,  with  her  hands  up  to  her  lips. 

Polly  shook  her  curls  out  of  her  face  and 
nodded.  "I'll  get  her  all  right,"  she  called  back. 

One  hand  held  the  tiller  firm  and  steady,  the 
other  had  loosened  the  main  sheet,  and  held  it  so 
as  to  get  the  benefit  of  every  breath  of  wind. 
Her  head  was  bending  forward,  her  eyes  half 
closed  like  the  Captain's,  as  they  watched  the 
squat  little  catboat  ahead  with  Crullers  crouch- 
ing it. 

The  big  boat  whistled  again,  sharp  long  calls 
of  direction,  of  which  not  one  of  the  girls  under- 
stood the  meaning.  Crullers  stood  up. 

"Sit  down,"  called  Polly,  "sit  down,  and 
steady  your  boat,  you  little  goose.  Hold  her  off 
to  windward,  Crullers,  not  that  way,  towards  the 
island,  towards  the  island!  Oh,  can't  you  hear 
anything?  Loosen  the  main  sheet,  that  rope 
right  there  at  the  end  of  your  boom,  and  let  the 
wind  swing  her  about.  Oh,  dear,  can't  you  do 
what  I  say,  Crullers?" 

Crullers'  fingers  fumbled  over  the  main  sheet. 
They  were  out  in  the  channel  now,  with  the  Point 
of  the  Sickle  lying  at  their  right  hand,  and  the 
lighthouse  and  station  in  plain  sight.  Just  as 


YACHT  CLUB  203 

Polly  set  her  teeth,  and  tried  to  make  straight 
for  the  other  boat,  the  great  white  steamer,  City 
of  Portland,  hove  into  sight,  steaming  up  the 
channel.  Then  something  that  Polly  had  either 
read  or  heard  flashed  through  her  mind.  A  sail- 
ing vessel  has  the  right  of  way.  But  Crullers 
did  not  know  that,  and  when  she  saw  that  mons- 
ter bearing  straight  down  on  her,  all  her  courage 
and  presence  of  mind  left  her.  The  one  thing 
she  did  remember  were  the  ring  buoys  in  the 
lockers  at  the  stern. 

The  Portland  was  blowing  its  whistle  stead- 
ily now,  and  Polly  called  as  she  came  near,  "It's 
all  right,  Crullers.  They're  holding  up  to  let  us 
pass.  Keep  right  along." 

Crullers  was  ahead,  and  did  not  seem  to  hear 
her,  and  just  as  she  felt  sure  they  would  pass 
safely,  she  saw  Crullers  deliberately  stand  up  in 
her  rocking,  unsteady  little  craft,  with  her  two 
arms  thrust  to  the  shoulders  through  a  couple  of 
ring  buoys,  and  another  held  fast  in  her  hands. 
Her  round,  good-tempered  face  was  blanched 
white,  as  she  turned  towards  Polly. 

"I'm  going  to  jump,  Polly!"  she  called  out 
shakily. 

"Don't  you  dare  to!"  Polly  cried,  but  her 


204  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

words  had  no  effect.  They  were  right  in  the 
path  of  the  Portland,  and  under  her  great 
bow.  The  Captain  was  shouting  something  to 
them,  as  he  leaned  out  over  the  bridge.  Bells 
seemed  to  be  ringing,  and  the  rails  were  lined 
with  tense,  startled  faces.  Polly  could  hear  some 
women  screaming  up  on  deck.  The  engines  had 
stopped  on  the  big  boat,  and  she  was  drifting 
easily  with  the  incoming  tide  towards  the  inlet. 
It  seemed  in  that  second  of  time  as  if  everybody 
on  the  steamer  was  shouting  out  something  dif- 
ferent as  Crullers  jumped  into  the  water. 

There  was  hardly  any  sea  on.  The  bay  was 
beautiful  in  the  soft  golden  glow  before  sunset. 
The  tide  had  turned,  and  was  coming  in  in  long 
easy  swells  like  the  waves  from  the  wake  of  a 
steamer.  It  seemed  to  Polly  afterwards,  when 
she  looked  back  to  that  time,  as  if  she  saw  every- 
thing in  the  visible  universe  in  those  few  seconds. 
The  big  boat  standing  off,  and  booming,  boom- 
ing at  them  distractedly;  Crullers'  little  catboat, 
righting  itself  gallantly  after  her  jump,  and 
starting  off  on  its  own  hook  towards  the  Point; 
Crullers  herself,  looking  so  comical  in  spite  of  the 
tragic  danger,  with  the  ring  buoys  around  her 
arms  like  a  new  fashion  in  sleeve  puffs,  and  the 


205 

third  one  hugged  to  her  breast  as  she  slipped  un- 
der the  water ;  and  most  vivid  of  all,  perhaps,  the 
Life  Saving  Station,  where  they  evidently  had 
been  seen,  for  somebody  was  running  back  up 
the  beach  towards  the  low  white  building. 

Then  suddenly  she  saw  Crullers'  taffy-colored 
pigtails,  lank  and  drenched,  and  her  face  drip- 
ping and  deathlike,  as  she  came  up.  It  seemed 
the  easiest  and  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
to  lean  over  and  catch  hold  of  the  pigtails.  Polly 
never  thought  of  doing  anything  else,  but  as  she 
did  so,  and  Crullers  caught  hold  of  the  Tidy 
Jane  and  was  helped  and  pulled  over  into  its 
cockpit,  a  great,  swelling  cheer  went  up  from  the 
decks  of  the  Portland,  and  the  captain  swung 
off  his  cap  in  salute  to  the  little  Commodore 
of  the  Yacht  Club,  as  she  tumbled  her  drenched 
mate  on  the  locker,  and  went  back  to  steering. 

The  Jane  came  about  handsomely,  and  the 
engines  on  the  steamer  started  to  throb.  Then 
Polly  glanced  up,  with  one  of  her  rare,  frank 
smiles  that  won  her  so  many  friends,  and  waved 
her  hand  back  to  all  the  faces  that  seemed  to 
smile  at  her,  and  at  the  big,  burly  Maine  cap- 
tain, who  laughed  as  he  shouted  down  to  her: 

"Well  done,  mate,  well  done!" 


CHAPTER   XIII 

POLLY'S  "CURRENT  EVENTS" 

"PuT  it  down  in  the  log  book,  Kate,  under 
the  head  of  current  events,"  Polly  said  that  night, 
as  she  sat  beside  Crullers'  couch,  and  they  all 
discussed  the  rescue.  "And  don't  say  heroism 
again.  It  wasn't  anything  of  the  kind.  It  was 
just  plain  common  sense." 

"That's  so,"  agreed  the  Captain,  smiling 
shrewdly.  "It's  an  awful  embarrassing  thing, 
this  being  a  hero,  Miss  Polly.  I've  had  to  go 
through  it  several  times,  more  or  less,  whenever 
I  happened  to  haul  some  landlubber  out  of  deep 
water,  and  I  can  sympathize  with  you." 

"Just  the  same,  Captain,  you'll  never  know 
how  glad  I  was  to  see  that  life-boat  round  the 
Point.  The  tide  was  setting  me  at  my  wits' 
end,  and  I  never  would  have  got  the  Tidy  Jane 
back  by  myself." 

"She's  powerful  skittish  once  she  gets  the 
smell  of  the  open  sea,"  the  Captain  remarked. 

206 


YACHT  CLUB  207 

"Yes,  and  they  helped  me  get  the  salt  water 
out  of  Crullers  too,"  added  Polly.  "I'll  bet  a 
cooky  she  won't  like  salt  for  a  year,  after  that 
one  good  taste  of  it." 

Crullers  laughed  feebly.  But  the  other  girls 
could  not  make  light  of  the  affair.  It  had 
seemed  altogether  too  serious  and  tragic,  when 
they  had  watched  those  two  frail,  white-winged 
little  boats  drifting  straight  in  the  face  of  dan- 
ger, and  then  Crullers'  frantic  leap  into  the 
sea,  and  the  coming  of  the  life-boat  around  the 
Point.  It  all  savored  too  much  of  real  tragedy, 
Kate  and  Ruth  said,  and  it  ought  to  teach  them 
a  good  lesson. 

The  life  savers  had  picked  up  Crullers'  boat 
midway  down  the  channel,  and  had  towed  the 
Tidy  Jane  in  under  bare  poles.  Polly  and 
Crullers  had  been  taken  up  to  the  Station,  Crul- 
lers, dripping  and  half  unconscious,  carried  in 
the  arms  of  the  Captain,  while  Polly  walked 
along  the  narrow  boardwalk  behind  them,  and 
the  rest  of  crew  followed,  five  men  altogether. 
At  the  Station,  Crullers  had  a  personal  experi- 
ence with  "first  aid"  methods,  for  she  had  not 
kept  her  mouth  closed  when  she  had  gone  under, 
and  as  the  Captain  said  she  had  "shipped  a  sea." 


208  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

The  other  girls  returned  to  Lost  Island  in 
their  boats,  as  soon  as  possible,  and  prepared 
Aunty  Welcome;  then  walked  back  on  the  shore 
road  to  meet  the  Captain  when  he  came  along 
carrying  Crullers  wrapped  up  like  a  papoose 
in  a  real,  United  States  Life  Saving  Corps 
blanket. 

That  night  Mrs.  Carey  had  come  over  to  the 
island  cottage  to  make  sure  that  Crullers  was 
doing  well.  Aunty  Welcome  had  dosed  her  with 
hot  ginger  tea,  which  as  Polly  said  was  punish- 
ment enough  in  itself  with  a  July  thermometer 
climbing  toward  the  nineties.  She  had  also  had 
a  warm  mustard  bath,  and  lay  wrapped  in  a 
blanket  on  a  couch  in  the  living-room.  The 
Captain  sat  on  a  camp  stool,  and  whittled  away 
at  a  new  pintle  bolt  for  Crullers'  rudder.  He 
said  nothing  all  the  time  the  girls  told  of  the 
day's  adventures  to  Mrs.  Carey,  not  even  when 
Polly  said  she  was  glad  the  life  boat  had  come 
after  them,  but  he  nodded  his  head  slowly. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  scold  us  any?"  asked 
Polly,  finally.  "We  should  have  started  for 
home  sooner,  and  maybe  we  didn't  manage  the 
yachts  just  right.  It  was  a  queer  wind  that 


YACHT  CLUB  209 

came  with  the  tide.  It  blew  from  the  south- 
west—" 

"West  by  sou'west,"  corrected  the  Captain 
gravely. 

"Yes,  sir,"  Polly  agreed.  "So  we  had  to  beat 
our  way  back  criss  cross  over  the  bay  to  catch 
any  good  from  it." 

"You  needn't  explain,"  the  Captain  shook  his 
head,  his  eyes  twinkling  under  their  shaggy 
brows.  "I'm  ashamed  of  you  all,  getting  the 
crew  out  on  a  day  when  there  was  hardly  a  ripple 
on  the  bay." 

"We  didn't  call  for  help,"  Polly  pleaded. 
"They  must  have  heard  the  Portland's  whistle. 
I  am  sorry  about  it.  The  captain  of  the  Port- 
land must  think  we're  a  nice  lot  of  yacht  club- 
bers. More  likely  he's  calling  us  yacht  lubbers." 

"I  met  him  at  the  hotel  to-night  when  I  went 
down  to  telephone,"  said  the  Captain,  slowly. 

"Oh,  what  did  he  say  about  us?"  the  girls 
broke  in.  "Please  tell  us,  Captain  Carey." 

"He  said  that  the  girl  in  the  Tidy  Jane  de- 
served a  medal  for  the  way  she  handled  her  boat, 
and  saved  the  little  fat  one."  The  Captain's 
face  was  quite  serious. 


210  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"I  didn't  do  anything  to  Crullers  except  pull 
her  over  into  the  Jane"  said  Polly,  blushing. 
"She'd  have  kept  afloat  anyway  till  the  life  boat 
reached  her.  She  was  floating  lovely  with  all 
those  little  buoys  on  her." 

"I  was  not,"  protested  Crullers,  indignantly. 
"I  was  just  full  of  salt  water.  I  swallowed 
gallons  of  it  when  I  went  under  that  first  time." 

Polly  was  watching  the  Captain's  countenance 
as  the  barometer  of  his  opinion  on  the  matter, 
but  it  betrayed  little.  He  listened  to  all  they  had 
to  say;  then  finally  leaned  back  and  closed  his 
big  jack  knife.  Mrs.  Carey  had  gone  out  into 
the  kitchen  to  confer  with  Aunty  Welcome  about 
the  need  of  a  doctor. 

"I  was  expecting  it,"  said  the  Captain  at  last. 
"I've  been  telling  all  along,  to  Tom,  and  Nancy, 
and  mother,  that  there'd  be  some  doings  pretty 
soon,  and  they  came  a  little  sooner  than  I  ex- 
pected. You'd  better  not  go  sailing  about  too 
much  after  this  unless  you're  sure  of  yourselves. 
For  if  you  can  get  all  tangled  up  like  that  on 
a  fair  day,  where  would  you  be  in  a  sudden 
squall?  I'll  expect  now  every  time  we  get  a 
good  breath  of  wind  to  look  over  the  bay  and  see 
one  of  the  yachts  floating  around  bottom  up,  and 


YACHT  CLUB  211 

a  couple  of  you  youngsters  hanging  on  to  it  by 
your  eyelids.  Now  mind  what  I  say,  keep  down 
at  this  end  of  the  bay,  out  of  the  channel  and 
away  from  the  other  craft,  till  you  know  enough 
to  get  out  of  the  way.  What  were  you  doing 
out  there  anyhow,  trying  to  round  the  Point?" 

The  girls  had  nearly  forgotten  their  adven- 
ture at  Smugglers'  Cove  in  the  newer  excitement 
of  the  accident,  but  now  they  told  of  the  day 
there,  and  of  the  mystery,  until  the  Captain 
leaned  back  his  head  and  laughed  over  it. 

"Now,  who  do  you  suppose  it  can  be,  Cap- 
tain?" asked  Isabel  and  Ted  in  one  breath. 

"Is  there  a  passage  from  that  cave  up  to  the 
old  ruins?"  Kate  added. 

"They  were  footprints  with  shoes  on,"  Sue 
exclaimed. 

"Were  they  indeed?"  The  Captain  laughed 
till  he  coughed,  and  wiped  the  tears  out  of  his 
eyes.  "Well,  now,  you  take  my  advice  and  keep 
off  the  island,  for  I'm  thinking  it's  inhabited." 

"Do  you  know  who  lives  there?"  Polly  leaned 
forward  to  meet  his  glance,  and  the  Captain 
slowly  winked,  oh,  but  so  wisely  and  cautiously. 

"I  am  saying  nothing,"  he  told  them.  "Can 
you  hear  me?" 


-212  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Mrs.  Carey  appeared  in  the  doorway  just 
then. 

"Come  along  home,  father,"  she  said.  "We've 
decided  not  to  get  any  doctor.  I  guess  Wel- 
come's about  right.  She  says  they  frets  around, 
and  muddles  things  up,  and  gets  in  the  way,  and 
she  can  mix  up  just  as  queer  a  mess  as  they  can 
any  time.  I  don't  think  the  child  is  hurt  much, 
anyhow.  She's  pretty  well  scared,  and  salted, 
and  that's  about  all.  Polly,  I'll  send  over  some 
fresh  string  beans  and  a  mess  of  peas  in  the 
morning  by  Nancy,  and  Tom's  going  to  the  vil- 
lage if  you  need  anything." 

"Aren't  they  good  to  us?"  Polly  said,  as  she 
came  back  after  sajang  goodbye  and  watching 
the  gleam  of  the  lantern  swing  along  the  hum- 
mocks over  to  the  shore  road.  "I  thought  he'd 
scold  us  hard." 

"We  deserved  it,"  Kate  answered,  calmly,  as 
she  stuffed  a  couple  of  sofa  cushions  back  of  her 
head,  and  clasped  her  hands  on  them.  "Here 
we've  stopped  a  steamer,  excited  all  her  pas- 
sengers and  crew,  made  the  life-savers  hustle  out 
in  fair  weather,  and  generally  let  everybody 
around  Eagle  Bay  know  what  a  lot  of  lubbers 
we  are  at  handling  yachts,  all  because  Crullers' 


tYACHT  CLUB  213 

pintle  bolt  got  twisted  and  she  took  a  jump  over- 
board. It's  lucky,  Polly,  the  Admiral  isn't  here. 
He'd  send  us  all  back  to  Queen's  Landing  in  a 

jiffy." 

"We  didn't  mean  to  make  so  much  trouble," 
Polly  answered  cheerily,  as  she  shook  up  Crul- 
lers' pillow,  and  got  her  a  glass  of  fresh  water 
for  the  night.  "I'm  only  thankful  it  was  no 
worse.  Let's  make  the  best  of  it.  Let's  make 
an  interesting  invalid  out  of  Crullers.  Aunty 
Welcome  says  she  must  stay  in  bed  to-morrow 
till  all  danger  is  over  of  chills  or  fever  or  stomach 
upsetness.  I'm  going  to  loan  her  my  pink 
kimono  to  wear  over  her  nightgown,  and  we'll 
bring  in  some  wild  roses  from  the  shore  road, 
and  entertain  her  with  a — oh,  girls,  I  know 
what."  Polly  stopped  short,  her  eyes  sparkling 
as  they  always  did  when  she  had  a  sudden  idea. 
"Let's  give  her  a  'Sea  Social.'  We  were  going 
to  have  one  some  evening,  but  now  we'll  do  it 
to-morrow  afternoon.  We  can  get  the  Vaughan 
girls  over.  Have  Tom  leave  word  at  the  hotel 
for  them,  and  Nancy  will  come,  and  we'll  all 
sing  sea  songs  and  recite  sea  poetry,  and  we'll 
have  a  lunch  right  out  of  the  sea,  fried  floun- 
der," 


214  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"I  wish  we  could  have  crab  a  la  Newburg," 
Isabel  remarked  musingly.  Polly  went  to  the 
open  window,  and  stretched  out  her  arms  sea- 
ward, as  she  sang: 

"Flounder,  flounder  in  the  sea, 

Come,  I  pray,  and  talk  to  me. 
For  my  wife,  Dame  Isabel, 
Wishes  what  I  fear  to  tell." 

She  turned  just  in  time  to  catch  the  pillow 
that  Isabel  sent  flying  across  the  room,  and  they 
all  sat  down  to  make  up  a  program  for  Crul- 
lers' "Sea  Social." 

It  was  a  great  success.  Even  Mrs.  Carey 
came  over,  with  a  fresh  gingerbread  and  a  pail 
of  rich  cream. 

"They  go  mighty  nice  together,"  she  said, 
smilingly,  and  the  girls  agreed  with  her  before 
the  feast  was  over. 

Dorothy  and  Bess  made  the  trip  across  the 
bay  in  the  Nixie,  to  call  on  the  invalid,  and  lend 
their  share  to  the  social  side  of  the  afternoon. 
Crullers  had  never  been  the  guest  of  honor  any- 
where before,  but  she  was  that  day,  as  she  sat 
up  on  the  couch  in  the  living-room,  with  Polly's 
long  pink  kimono  around  her,  and  pink  wild 


YACHT  CLUB  215 

roses  fastened  on  each  side  her  braids,  above  her 
ears,  in  Japanese  fashion. 

The  glee  club  played  all  the  sea  songs  they 
could  remember,  and  all  hands  piped  up  merrily 
from  "Nancy  Lee"  to  "Anchored."  Then  Polly 
announced  that  the  best  part  of  the  program  was 
yet  to  come.  Each  of  the  girls  would  render 
her  favorite  poem  about  the  sea,  and  Crullers 
had  to  start  the  ball  rolling. 

"I  only  know  the  one  about  the  'Schooner 
Hesperus,'  Polly,"  she  said,  shyly,  "and  I  like 
it  best  of  all." 

"Say  it,  then,"  Polly  told  her.  "We  like  it, 
too." 

Then  Kate  recited  "The  Three  Fishers,"  her 
slow,  contralto  tones  and  rather  dreamy  air  well 
fitting  themselves  to  the  sad  old  verses.  Isabel 
gave  "Annabel  Lee"  most  touchingly,  and  Polly 
ordered  a  quick  song  in  happier  vein  to  offset 
the  sadness  of  the  two.  So  after  a  rousing 
"Billy  was  a  Bo'sun,"  Ted  got  up,  and  declaimed 
the  only  poem  on  the  sea  she  knew,  one  she  had 
had  to  memorize  at  Calvert  Hall  as  a  punish- 
ment for  putting  the  house  cat  into  Fraulein's 
shirtwaist  box,  and  scaring  her  nearly  into  a 
fainting  fit  (Fraulein,  not  the  cat). 


216  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"The  mountains  look  on  Marathon, 
And  Marathon  looks  on  the  sea, 
And  sitting  there  a  while  alone, 

I  dreamed  that  Greece  might  yet  be  free." 

Polly  always  liked  to  watch  Ted's  face  when 
she  came  to  that  verse.  She  would  lift  her  chin, 
and  her  gray  eyes  would  flash,  and  her  fists 
clench.  At  Calvert  Hall  Ted  had  always  been 
the  most  successful  "declaimer,"  as  Miss  Cal- 
vert termed  it,  and  she  "fixed  Greece  good 
and  plenty"  this  time;  so  Sue  said  when  it 
was  over. 

Dorothy  declared  she  didn't  know  any  poem 
about  the  ocean,  but  she  would  sing  "Sweet  and 
Low"  if  they  liked. 

"Not  too  low,  please,"  Crullers  said,  eagerly, 
"or  I  won't  hear  all  the  words  away  over  here." 

"I  declare,  Crullers,"  laughed  Kate.  "We 
should  have  nicknamed  you  Stubs,  for  if  there's 
a  possible  thing  for  you  to  stumble  over,  you  do 
it." 

Polly  recited  her  favorite,  "The  Chambered 
Nautilus,"  and  as  she  came  to  the  last  verse 
Mrs.  Carey  closed  her  eyes  and  smiled,  her 
hand  up  to  her  face,  as  the  grand  old  words 
rang  out, 


YACHT  CLUB  217 

"Build  thee  more  stately  mansions,  oh,  my  soul 
As  the  swift  seasons  roll. 
Leave  thy  low  vaulted  past, 
Let  each  new  temple,  nobler  than  the  last, 
Shut  thee  from  heaven  with  a  dome  more  vast, 

Till  thou  at  length  art  free, 
Leaving  thine  outgrown  shell, 
By  life's  unresting  sea." 

"Oh,  I  love  that,"  Nancy  cried,  her  blue  eyes 
sparkling  as  Polly  finished.  "Father  would, 
too." 

"Now,  there's  just  Bess,  and  Mrs.  Carey,  and 
you  left,  Nancy,"  Kate  said.  "Come,  Bess,  do 
something." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  anything,"  Bess  said, 
shyly. 

"Yes,  she  does,  too,"  Dorothy  laughed. 
"Make  her  say  the  poem  from  'Alice  in  Wonder- 
land' about  the  whiting  and  the  snail." 

All  the  girls  added  their  persuasion  and  Bess 
agreed.  She  was  only  thirteen,  and  small  for 
her  age,  with  a  mass  of  yellow,  square-cut  curls 
around  her  mischievous  face,  and  she  had  plenty 
of  freckles.  The  piquant,  teasing  look  on  her 
face  was  delicious  as  she  asked,  plaintively,  coax- 
ingly, 


218  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Will  you,  won't  you,  will  you,  won't  you,  won't  you  join 

the  dance, 
Oh,  will  you,  won't  you,  will  you,  won't  you,  won't  you, 

won't  you  join  the  dance?" 

"Now,  Mrs.  Carey  and  Nancy  are  next,"  Kate 
said,  as  soon  as  the  applause  had  stopped,  and 
Crullers  leaned  back  on  her  pillow  flushed  and 
radiant  over  the  merriment. 

"Well,  now,  we  didn't  expect  to  speak  any 
pieces,"  Mrs.  Carey  answered,  her  pleasant 
motherly  face  beaming  around  at  them  with  love 
and  kindliness.  She  used  to  say  that  she'd  got 
so  in  the  habit  of  mothering  the  two  children 
and  the  Captain  that  it  was  just  second  nature 
to  her  to  mother  anything  in  sight.  "I  don't 
know  any  poetry,  and  neither  does  Nancy,  but 
if  you  like  I'll  read  you  something  that  we 
think's  the  finest  poetry  ever  was  written  about 
the  sea,  and  then  Nancy  can  sing  her  favorite 
hymn,  'Pull  for  the  Shore.'  " 

She  stepped  back  into  the  kitchen  and  spoke 
to  Aunty  Welcome,  and  presently  returned  with 
the  latter's  Bible  in  her  hand.  Sitting  there 
in  the  cool,  cosy  room,  whose  windows  all  opened 
to  the  sea,  she  read  that  beautiful  Psalm  that 
both  she  and  the  Captain  loved  to  read  aloud, 


,YACHT  CLUB  219 

the  One  Hundred  and  Fourth,  with  its  grand 
old  song  about  He  "who  layeth  the  beams  of 
his  chambers  in  the  waters:  who  maketh  the 
clouds  His  chariot:  who  walketh  upon  the  wings 
of  the  wind :  who  maketh  His  angels  spirits,  and 
His  ministers  a  flame  of  fire." 

Then  Nancy's  clear,  sweet  voice  fairly  made 
the  little  room  ring  with  the  hymn  she  loved : 

"Light  in  thpr  darkness,  sailor, 

Day  is  at  hand, 
See  o'er  the  foaming  billow, 
Fair  haven  land." 

After  it  was  over,  and  they  had  all  gone  ex- 
cepting the  yacht  club  girls  themselves,  Crullers 
said  she  thought  it  was  the  happiest  time  she  had 
ever  had,  and  the  next  day  she  was  able  to  "rise 
and  shine,"  as  Aunty  Welcome  told  her,  and  take 
up  life  again. 

Things  were  very  quiet  at  the  island  for  a 
week  after  the  mishap  in  the  bay.  The  girls  re- 
stricted their  sailing  to  the  west  end  of  the  bay, 
down  towards  Fair  Havens,  and  Polly  was  busy 
finding  out  how  to  manage  yachts,  keep  them  in 
repair,  and  so  on,  and  she  called  Tom  to  account 
roundly. 


220  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Just  look  at  these  seams  in  the  Tidy  Jane, 
Tom,"  she  said  one  day,  when  they  were  down 
at  the  landing  overhauling  the  boats.  "Don't 
they  need  re-caulking?" 

"I  guess  not,"  Tom  responded,  easily.  "Fa- 
ther and  I  went  all  over  them  last  spring,  when 
we  did  the  rest.  They'll  swell  after  they've  been 
in  the  water  a  few  weeks  anyhow.  Sometimes 
when  you  caulk  a  boat  up  too  tight,  she'll  spring 
on  you." 

"All  right,  then,  but  just  look  at  the  paint, 
will  you?  It's  fairly  peeling  off  in  some  places, 
Tom.  You  won't  find  any  of  the  Orienta  boats 
looking  like  that." 

Tom  looked  at  her,  his  eyes  beginning  to 
twinkle  as  his  father's  did. 

"I  know  what  you're  up  to,"  he  laughed. 
"You're  going  to  race  in  the  regatta!" 

Polly  said  nothing,  but  she  kept  on  her  course 
of  fitting  out  for  the  race.  The  Orienta  was  to 
open  its  club  house  the  first  of  August  for  the 
regatta  season.  It  had  been  open  as  a  club  house 
since  the  first  of  June,  but  officially  it  welcomed 
the  sailing  world  from  the  first  of  August  until 
the  fifteenth,  the  day  of  the  first  run.  Even 
from  the  porch  of  the  little  cottage  on  the  Knob, 


YACHT  (CLUB  221 

the  girls  could  look  across  the  bay  to  where  the 
handsome  red  and  white  club  house  stood  mid- 
way between  the  hotel  and  the  row  of  summer 
cottages  that  straggled  along  the  north  shore  all 
the  way  to  the  Inlet.  As  long  as  the  girls  lived 
on  Eagle  Bay,  they  never  knew  the  name  of  the 
little  river  that  rambled  down  between  the  bluffs 
and  mingled  with  the  channel  waters.  Every- 
one called  it  the  Inlet,  so  they  did  too. 

At  one  side  of  the  club  house  was  built  a  tall 
yacht  shed,  for  the  housing  of  such  boats  as  were 
left  there  in  the  winter  time.  The  best  ones 
came  up  from  the  south,  Dorothy  said.  Not 
way  down  south,  but  around  Boston  harbor,  and 
Long  Island,  and  New  York.  Her  father's  big 
sloop  would  be  the  flag  ship  at  the  regatta,  she 
told  them,  for  he  was  the  commodore  of  the 
challenging  club. 

"They  don't  have  a  flag  ship  at  a  regatta," 
Tom  had  interposed.  "I  never  raced  in  one,  but 
I've  watched  them  ever  since  I  was  knee  high  to 
a  toadstool.  There's  just  the  racing  yachts,  and 
the  judge's  boat,  and  they  divide  them  into  dif- 
ferent classes." 

"I  thought  that  was  what  they  called  it,"  Dor- 
othy said,  in  her  pretty,  half  serious  way,  and 


222  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Tom  walked  away,  grinning  blandly  over  the 
ways  of  girl  people  in  general. 

The  Admiral  had  written  that  he  was  surely 
coming  north  regatta  week,  and  Polly  felt  a 
growing  emulation  in  her  breast,  a  feeling  of 
pride  in  the  Polly  Page  Yacht  Club,  against  this 
mighty  rival. 

"Let's  go  over  there  and  watch  them  overhaul 
their  yachts,"  she  said  finally,  the  day  before  the 
opening;  so  they  tramped  around  the  shore  road 
to  Orienta  Point.  Almost  the  first  persons  they 
saw  were  the  Vaughan  girls,  sitting  up  on  the 
broad  veranda  with  a  lot  of  ladies  and  young 
girls. 

"This  looks  like  a  celebration  of  some  kind, 
girls,"  Kate  said,  merrily.  "We  had  better  be 
careful." 

The  others  hesitated  for  a  moment.  They 
were  dressed  as  usual  in  their  dark  blue  yachting 
suits,  with  white  sailor  collars,  and  white  duck 
knockabout  hats  to  match.  Even  from  where 
they  stood,  there  was  surely  a  festive  appearance 
to  the  club  group.  But  the  girls  had  already 
seen  them,  and  came  hurrying  down  the  steps  to 
meet  them,  with  outstretched  hands  and  glad 
smiles  of  welcome. 


YACHT  CLUB  223 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you  came  over  at  last,"  cried 
Bess.  "Mamma  wants  you  all  to  come  up  and 
join  us.  To-morrow's  the  official  guest  day,  but 
mamma's  giving  a  tea  this  afternoon  to  the  lady 
visitors,  and  we  Juniors  are  helping  pass  cake 
and  things.  Come  up,  now,  for  we've  just  been 
telling  about  how  Polly  saved  Crullers'  life  the 
other  night." 

"Oh,  but  I  didn't,"  exclaimed  Polly,  redden- 
ing under  her  coat  of  tan.  "Truly,  Bess,  I 
didn't.  Crullers,  I  mean  Jane  Daphne  Adams 
here,  jumped  overboard,  and  she  was  floating 
comfortably  with  three  buoys  attached  to  her 
when  I  helped  her  into  the  boat." 

"Well,  the  captain  of  the  Portland  didn't  tell 
it  that  way,"  Dorothy  said.  "He  came  up  to 
the  hotel  that  evening  and  told  us  all  about  it. 
He  said  that  you  were  the  pluckiest  girl  he  had 
ever  seen  handle  a  yacht  alone.  Won't  you 
please  come  up,  and  let  mamma  talk  to  you  about 
it  ?  She's  ever  so  anxious  to  meet  all  of  you  girls 
from  the  island  camp  anyway,  for  Bess  and  I 
have  talked  of  you  so  frequently." 

"But  we  really  hadn't  better  to-day,  had  we, 
Polly?"  Ruth's  eyes  questioned  Polly.  What 
would  Miss  Calvert  say  if  she  knew  six  of  her 


224  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

best  girls  had  attended  a  yacht  club  afternoon 
tea  in  blue  duck. 

"It's  the  correct  thing  to  do,"  Bess  persisted, 
laughing  at  their  perplexity.  "The  law  of  yacht 
clubs  gives  a  tacit  membership,  papa  says,  to  all 
members  of  other  clubs  who  may  be  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. And  they  can't  always  be  in  party  at- 
tire, you  know." 

"Oh,  let's,  Polly,"  pleaded  Isabel.  So  Ruth 
and  Polly  led  the  way  up  the  broad  steps  to  the 
veranda,  with  its  handsome  awnings,  potted 
palms,  and  dark  green  wicker  chairs  and  tables 
scattered  invitingly  about. 

Mrs.  Vaughan  welcomed  them  cordially  and 
introduced  them  to  the  other  ladies  and  a  lot  of 
the  "Juniors,"  girls  of  their  own  age,  and  friends 
of  Dorothy's  and  Bess's. 

"And  you  are  all  Southern  girls,  Dolly  tells 
me,"  she  said,  looking  from  one  face  to  the  other. 
"Virginia  girls.  How  did  you  ever  happen  to 
drift  away  up  on  our  rocky  coast?" 

Polly  explained  how  it  had  all  happened,  and 
then  she  discovered  that  Mrs.  Vaughan  was  an 
old  friend  of  her  Aunt  Milly,  Mrs.  Holmes,  and 
knew  the  four  boy  cousins. 

"So  you  must  not  remain  isolated  over  at  the 


YACHT  CLUB  225 

Knob  after  this,  girls,"  she  told  them  at  parting, 
when  they  had  partaken  of  ice  cream,  delicate 
shrimp  and  lobster  salad  sandwiches,  and  tea. 
"The  Orienta  is  very  gay  during  August,  and 
we  have  a  good  many  Junior  functions  for  our 
younger  element.  I  will  speak  to  the  Commo- 
dore about  your  club  and  see  that  it  is  listed  for 
the  regatta,  and  whenever  you  are  able  to  come 
over  I  will  chaperon  all  of  you  and  see  that  you 
get  back  safely.  We  have  our  touring  car  up 
here,  and  you  can  all  go  home  in  that,  you  know, 
any  time." 

"Well,  forevermore,"  gasped  Polly,  as  they 
trudged  back  homeward  with  the  sunset  spread- 
ing its  glory  over  the  world  of  land  and  sea  and 
sky.  "Girls,  we  have  stumbled  all  unawares  into 
society.  Let's  conduct  ourselves  as  angels. 
Whatever  will  grandfather  say!" 

"Did  you  notice  their  dresses?"  asked  Isabel, 
her  eyes  dreamy  with  rapt  remembrance.  "That 
one  which  Mrs.  Vaughan  wore  was  sheer,  hand- 
embroidered  batiste,  and  the  long  coat  was  of 
real  Irish  crochet." 

"I  don't  believe  she  sleeps  one  bit  better  than 
I  do,"  said  Sue,  recklessly. 

"But,  Sue,  did  you  notice  Dorothy's  dress?" 


226  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

persisted  Isabel.  "It  was  white  organdie  over 
pale  yellow  silk  that  just  matched  the  tea  roses 
in  the  pattern.  I  love  clothes  that  show  good 
taste." 

"Now,  Lady  Vanitas,"  said  Polly,  reprov- 
ingly. "Don't  let  your  heart  dwell  so  on  rai- 
ment. Lilies  of  the  field,  you  know.  It  was 
pretty,  and  there  you  are.  We've  all  brought 
our  Commencement  Day  dresses  along  for  Sun- 
days, so  we'll  freshen  them  up,  and  I  guess  we 
can  go  to  the  ball  without  the  help  of  any  god- 
mothers or  pumpkins.  I  don't  feel  one  bit  both- 
ered over  the  social  side  of  it,  but  how  can  we 
hold  our  own  in  a  regatta,  girls?  It's  so  kind 
of  Mrs.  Vaughan  to  invite  us  to  join  them,  isn't 
it?  How  funny  our  little  fifteen-footers  will 
look  alongside  the  big  forty  and  sixty-footers." 

"But  she  said  they  were  going  to  have  special 
entries  for  the  Junior  events,  don't  you  remem- 
ber?" Sue  interrupted  eagerly.  "I  don't  see  why 
we  couldn't  enter  for  them.  Dorothy  and  Bess 
are  going  to  sail  their  yacht,  and  they  say  there 
are  five  or  six  others  who  are  going  in." 

"Then  we  will  sail  ours,"  Polly  retorted.  "I 
have  intended  to  all  along,  but  I  wanted  some 
encouragement.  I  wouldn't  race  with  a  great 


YACHT  CLUB  227 

yacht  towering  over  me  like  a  genii  just  out  of 
a  bottle,  but  I'll  pit  the  Tidy  Jane  against  any 
yacht  of  her  build  along  the  whole  coast  of  North 
America." 

"Hurrah !"  Sue  threw  her  cap  up  into  the  air. 
"Wait  till  you  see  the  Patsy  D.  come  up  gal- 
lantly in  the  wind,  and  grab  the  Orknta  Junior 
cup  away  from  all  of  you." 

It  gave  them  plenty  to  talk  about  and  plan 
for,  at  all  events.  As  Ruth  said  the  following 
morning,  the  summer  was  not  half  long  enough 
for  all  the  things  they  planned  to  do.  They 
rose  early,  any  time  between  five  and  six.  No- 
body except  a  clam  could  have  slept  with  the  sun 
coming  up  like  a  great,  golden  blossom  behind 
Bald  Bluif,  and  the  sea  running  along  the  beach 
with  little  waves  like  dancing  feet,  calling  to  one 
to  come  and  play  too. 

They  tried  over  and  over  again  to  divide  each 
day  systematically,  but,  as  Polly  said,  "current 
events  tripped  them  up."  Aunty  Welcome  pro- 
tested that  she  would  do  the  washing,  ironing, 
cooking,  and  kitchen  work,  but  not  a  tap  more; 
so  each  took  care  of  her  own  room,  and  Polly 
looked  out  for  the  living-room  besides.  Sue  had 
chosen  the  veranda  for  her  special  charge,  and 


228  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

she  kept  it  spotless.  They  had  brought  along 
two  hammocks,  and  had  found  another  one 
rolled  up  with  the  porch  mats  under  a  windoAv 
seat.  The  three  hung  out  on  the  veranda  tempt- 
ingly, and  through  the  long  warm  afternoons, 
when  they  were  not  sailing,  the  girls  would  sit 
out  there  and  make  all  sorts  of  decorative  things 
out  of  the  shells  in  their  collection,  while  Ruth 
read  aloud.  The  very  week  of  their  arrival,  she 
had  gone  across  the  bay  with  Nancy  in  the 
Pirate  and  had  discovered  the  village  circulating 
library. 

"I  do  believe,  Grandma,"  Polly  had  said,  mer- 
rily, when  she  saw  her  returning  with  a  brand 
new  book,  "that  if  you  landed  on  the  coast  of 
South  Africa,  you'd  ask  the  first  gorilla  you  met, 
very  politely,  if  he  would  please  direct  you  to  the 
nearest  circulating  library." 

But  Ruth  refused  to  be  teased  about  her 
hobby,  so  the  girls  desisted.  She  loved  books, 
however,  and  would  have  walked  all  the  way  to 
Eastport  in  order  to  get  a  fresh  one.  So  with 
her  rimless  eyeglasses  planted  firmly  on  the 
bridge  of  her  nose,  the  nose  that  turned  up  ever 
so  little  at  the  world  in  anxious  inquiry,  she 
smiled  placidly  at  Polly,  and  hugged  a  new  vol- 


YACHT  CLUB  229 

ume  to  her  heart  every  time  she  went  over  the 
bay. 

"You're  all  ready  enough  to  listen  while  I 
read  aloud,  just  the  same,"  she  told  them,  when 
they  all  settled  themselves  out  on  the  porch,  and 
called  for  the  after-dinner  reading.  No  one 
contradicted  her.  Polly  was  over  in  her  favorite 
hammock  at  the  southwesterly  corner,  her  lap 
full  of  shells,  and  some  sandpaper,  with  which 
she  was  trying  to  polish  their  outer  side.  Sue, 
Isabel,  and  Crullers  leaned  against  the  railing, 
so  that  their  hair  would  hang  over  and  dry  in 
the  sunlight.  Only  two  of  the  girls  wore  caps 
when  in  bathing,  and  Aunty  Welcome  declared 
that  their  hair  would  be  fairly  pickled  before  they 
reached  home. 

"It's  'Treasure  Island'  this  time,  girls,"  Ruth 
announced. 

"Smugglers'  Cove,"  murmured  Sue,  mischie- 
vously. "See  what  an  effect  it  had  on  her,  oh, 
dear;  oh,  dear." 

Ruth  uttered  a  sudden  exclamation,  and 
slipped  into  the  house. 

"There  was  another  parcel  in  our  mail  box 
to-day,"  she  said,  as  she  came  back.  "I  forgot 
to  give  it  to  you." 


230  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"This  makes  the  fourth,"  Polly  declared,  tak- 
ing it  from  her,  and  handling  it  gingerly.  "And 
they  all  come  from  Smugglers'  Cove.  The  first 
one  had  new  magazines  in  it,  and  some  patent 
fish  hooks  that  Sue  ran  off  with,  and  we  haven't 


seen  since." 


"The  second  was  chocolate  mints." 
"Oh,  my,  weren't  they  good?"  Crullers  added, 
"Third,    a    full    and    complete    Manual    on 
Conchology  and  Sea-life,  suitable  for  young  per- 
sons marooned  on  an  isle,"  concluded  Polly,  re- 
turning with  a  pair  of  scissors  to  cut  the  twine. 
"I  wonder  what  this  is?" 

It  was  addressed,  as  the  other  parcels  had  been, 
simply  to  "The  Yacht  Club,  Lost  Island,  Eagle 
Bay,  Maine."  Polly  opened  it  while  the  rest 
stood  around.  One  wrapping  after  another  was 
removed,  and  finally  a  box  appeared.  When 
this  was  opened,  there  lay  a  microscope,  a  fine 
one,  with  several  different  removable  lenses  for 
observing  specimens. 

"Well,  what  a  darling,  tasty  old  pirate  he  is," 
exclaimed  Polly,  joyously.  "He  seems  to  know 
all  our  needs.  We'll  have  to  send  something  to 
him  in  return,  girls." 

"I'll  make  him  a  shell  portiere  to  hang  in  front 


YACHT  CLUB  231 

of  his  cave,"  said  Kate,  soberly.  Scarcely  had 
she  spoken  when  a  strange  and  unusual  sound 
broke  the  stillness  of  the  bay. 

"That  sounds  like  a  motor  boat,"  Polly  said, 
instantly.  "Maybe  it's  the  one  from  the  Hip- 
pocampus" 

It  was  surely  a  motor  boat,  but  not  the  bright- 
railed,  mahogany-trimmed  one  from  the  Hip- 
pocampus. This  was  white,  with  a  high,  pointed 
prow,  a  cabin,  and  a  cockpit  similar  to  Nancy's 
knockabout.  But  there  the  resemblance  ended. 
The  mast  had  been  removed,  and  a  small  gaso- 
line engine  provided  the  power. 

"I  can  see  the  name  on  the  prow,"  called  Ted 
presently.  "It's  the  Natica" 

"Natica  means  a  sea  snail,"  Ruth  explained, 
with  absent-minded  reversion  to  lessons,  but 
Polly  dropped  her  shells  helter-skelter  into  the 
hammock,  and  rose. 

"I  know  who  it  is,  girls,"  she  cried.  "That's 
our  smuggler!" 


CHAPTER    XIV 

"MR.  SMITH  or  SMUGGLERS'  COVE" 

"Snip,  ahoy!"  called  out  the  lone  occupant 
of  the  boat,  as  he  waved  his  hand  to  them,  and 
came  alongside  the  landing.  The  girls  saw  at 
once  that  he  was  an  elderly  man,  with  a  square- 
cut,  iron-gray  beard  that  curled  upward  at  its 
edges,  and  a  moustache.  He  wore  a  white 
sweater  and  linen  trousers,  and  that  was  as  far 
as  their  observation  went  at  first  sight. 

"Won't  you  come  ashore?"  called  Polly,  with 
cheery  hospitality,  as  she  waved  back  to  him. 

"Now,  Polly,  be  careful,"  warned  Kate. 
"You  don't  know  whether  he's  Captain  Kidd,  or 
Neptune  in  disguise,  or  Andrew  Carnegie.  He 
really  looks  like  all  three."  But  Polly  disre- 
garded the  warning.  She  ran  down  the  steps, 
and  met  the  stranger  half-way  up  the  little  board- 
walk from  the  landing,  after  he  had  moored  his 
boat. 

"He  has  something  under  his  arm,  girls,"  Sue 

232 


YACHT  CLUB  233 

whispered.  "Looks  like  a  bottle — no,  it's  our 
marmalade  jar,  all  washed  up  nice  and  clean. 
Isn't  he  the  tidy  old  smuggler,  though?" 

"Good  afternoon,  young  ladies."  As  the 
stranger  greeted  them,  he  raised  his  cap  with  a 
gesture  that  even  the  Admiral  would  have  ap- 
proved of.  "I  have  come  to  return  the  mar- 
malade jar,  and  to  thank  you  for  the  treat.  It 
was  the  finest  I  ever  ate." 

"You  may  have  more  of  it  if  you  like,"  offered 
Polly,  instantly,  with  all  her  Virginia  grace  and 
hospitality  to  the  fore.  "We  have  plenty  of  it 
on  hand.  And  you  need  not  have  brought  back 
the  jar." 

"But  I  wanted  to,  I  wanted  to."  He  smiled 
around  at  them  through  his  rimless  eyeglasses, 
with  the  friendliest  interest.  "It  gave  me  a  good 
excuse  for  calling.  I've  been  wanting  to  come 
ever  since  I  saw  the  first  smoke  rise  from  your 
chimney." 

"Did  you  think  that  perhaps  we  were  pirates 
too?"  laughed  Sue. 

This  "unfortunate  remark,"  as  Isabel  called 
it  later,  required  explanation,  and  the  girls  were 
only  too  ready  to  tell  all  their  suspicions  about 
the  Cove,  and  its  unknown  Robinson  Crusoe. 


234  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

He  listened  to  them  with  the  keenest  amusement, 
his  dark  eyes  twinkling  under  their  "pent-house 
lids,"  as  Ruth  called  the  bushy  gray  eyebrows. 

"So  you  considered  me  a  pirate  or  a  smuggler, 
did  you?"  He  laughed  richly  over  the  idea,  but 
Polly  shook  her  head. 

"Not  exactly.  We  thought  you  might  be. 
We  almost  hoped  you  might  be,  so  we  could  find 
chests  of  gold  in  that  cave.  You  see,  nobody 
around  here  knows  anything  about  you,  or  where 
you  came  from,  or  when  you  came." 

"I  came  up  from  the  South  in  a  motor  boat 
along  the  shore,"  he  replied  promptly,  almost 
happily.  "And  a  rousing  good  time  I  had  too." 

"But  where  were  you  all  the  time  we  were  on 
the  island,  and  Crullers  nearly  was  drowned  when 
she  got  in  the  way  of  the  Portland?"  Polly 
leaned  forward,  her  chin  on  her  hand,  as  she 
always  did  when  she  was  perplexed. 

"I  had  gone  away  from  the  island  for  the 
day,"  he  explained.  "Up  to  Pautipaug  Beach. 
It  is  about  twelve  miles  along  the  coast  towards 
Bar  Harbor." 

"Well,"  sighed  Polly,  "we've  called  you  the 
Mystery,  and  it  certainly  suits  you,  for  nobody 
knows  even  your  name." 


YACHT  CLUB  235 

"That's  just  what  I  wanted,"  he  answered, 
comfortably.  "That's  why  I  came  here."  He 
leaned  back  in  the  most  comfortable  chair  the 
club  boasted,  and  piled  cushions  behind  him, 
while  Ted  slipped  away  to  tell  Aunty  Welcome 
of  the  guest  of  honor.  "I've  rented  Smugglers' 
Cove  for  the  summer  for  research,  yes,  that's  a 
good  word,  very  explanatory  and  truthful,  for 
research.  And — well,  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

There  was  a  dead  silence,  while  each  of  the 
girls  regarded  the  mystery  from  her  own  point 
of  view.  Nobody  questions  a  guest,  not  around 
Queen's  Landing,  Virginia,  not  even  when  he 
is  shrouded  in  mystery,  so  they  gave  it  up. 
But  Polly  had  a  brilliant  strategic  plan  occur 
to  her.  She  would  introduce  all  of  the  girls, 
gracefully,  easily.  Then  he  would  have  to  in- 
troduce himself  to  them  in  return.  It  was  sim- 
ple. 

"We  must  introduce  ourselves  to  you,  so  you 
can  tell  one  from  the  other,"  she  said.  "This  is 
Ruth  Brooks.  Sometimes  we  call  her  Grandma. 
She  is  our  instructress  in  conchology,  and  also 
librarian,  and  acts  as  ballast  for  the  entire  estab- 
lishment." 

"Polly,  stop  using  such  big  words,"  laughed 


236  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Ted.  "Polly  loves  big  words.  She  told  me  once 
that  Xapoleon  and  the  Admiral  always  used 
them,  so  she  was  going  to." 

Polly  went  on  merrily.  "This  is  Isabel 
Moore,  our  mirror  of  fashion,  Lady  Vanitas. 
She  should  have  been  Solomon's  favorite  daugh- 
ter and  shared  his  raiment.  Kate,  look  around 
this  way  please,  because  your  Greek  profile  is 
your  strongest  point.  It  is  pure  Greek,  isn't  it?" 
she  appealed  to  their  caller,  and  he  nodded  de- 
lightedly. "Miss  Julian  is  our  club  chaperon, 
and  also  the  ship's  husband  for  the  entire  fleet, 
and  also  the  Imperial  Keeper  of  the  Memory 
Log.  If  it  were  not  for  her  and  for  Isabel,  the 
rest  of  us  would  be  just  Girl  Fridays  on  a  desert 
isle.  Jane  Daphne  Adams,  where  art  thou?" 
Crullers  rose  from  a  hammock,  her  hair  tousled 
like  a  Scotch  terrier's.  "Crullers,  have  you  been 
asleep?"  Polly  demanded,  and  Crullers  nodded 
drowsily.  The  other  girls  laughed  mischie- 
vously. It  was  just  like  Crullers  to  fall  sound 
asleep  at  an  important  time.  But  Polly  went  on 
just  the  same.  "This  is  Crullers,  or  Jane 
Daphne  Adams,  who  fell  overboard — " 

"And  woke  to  find  herself  famous,  while  they 
pumped  out  the  salt  water,"  put  in  Sue,  gravely. 


YACHT  CLUB  237 

"There  are  two  more,  Mr.  Smuggler  Man," 
laughed  Polly,  "but  I  daren't  present  them. 
Their  names  are  Ted  and  Sue,  and  one  is  just 
as  bad  as  the  other." 

"Polly  Page!"  came  an  indignant  gasp  from 
the  living-room,  where  Ted  had  retreated  to  help 
Aunty  arrange  the  tea-tray  daintily.  "Just 
you  wait  till  I  come  out  there." 

"I  am  delighted  to  meet  you  all,"  the  Unknown 
said  heartily.  "I  am  certain  this  is  the  most 
unique  club  roster  in  the  world.  But  you 
haven't  introduced  yourself." 

"Let  me,  please,"  Ted's  curly  red  hair  showed 
at  the  open  window.  "Miss  Polly  Page,  of 
Glenwood,  Queen's  Landing,  Virginia;  Com- 
modore of  the  Polly  Page  Yacht  Club,  Founder 
of  the  Hungiy  Six,  Volunteer  Life  Saver  of 
Eagle  Bay — let's  see,  anything  else,  girls?" 

"Custodian  of  the  Club  Chafing  Dish,"  Sue 
added. 

"Oh,  stop,  please,  girls;  I'll  be  good,  truly," 
pleaded  the  Commodore,  flushing  and  laughing 
at  the  way  they  had  turned  the  tables  on  her. 
All  her  strategy  had  not  resulted  in  the  stranger's 
revealing  his  name. 

"I  am  sure  we  shall  be  the  best  of  neighbors 


238  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

the  rest  of  the  summer."  The  stranger  smiled 
at  the  circle  of  eager,  girlish  faces  around  him. 
"If  you  will  promise  to  keep  me  supplied  with 
Virginia  marmalade,  put  up  by  Aunty  Wel- 
come, as  you  call  her,  I  will  promise  you  a  steady 
output  of  new  magazines  and  books.  Is  it  a 
bargain?" 

"It  is,"  said  the  girls,  resolutely,  and  then  they 
remembered  the  mysterious  parcels  that  Ruth 
had  brought  back  from  Eastport,  and  thanked 
him  for  their  contents.  But  suddenly  Crullers 
asked,  in  a  gentle,  interested  way,  the  one  ques- 
tion they  had  all  avoided. 

"What's  your  name?" 

"Smith,"  replied  the  stranger,  veiy  simpty, 
then  he  smiled  around  at  them  again  in  his  whim- 
sical, almost  mischievous  fashion,  for  there  was 
frank  disappointment  on  their  faces.  "There 
are  a  great  many  members  of  our  family.  I 
should  have  said  Bold  Daniel,  or  Blackbeard, 
should  I  not?" 

"Well,  we  did  rather  hope  you  might  turn  out 
to  be  at  least  a  smuggler,"  Polly  said,  as  she 
took  the  tea-tray  from  Ted,  and  set  it  down  be- 
fore their  guest  on  a  chair,  for  tea-tables  existed 
not  on  Lost  Island.  "Won't  you  try  some  of 


YACHT  CLUB  239i 

Aunty  Welcome's  famous  hermits,  and  sponge 
cake,  and  marmalade,  and  a  cup  of  tea?" 

For  over  an  hour  they  entertained  Mr.  Smith 
of  Smugglers'  Cove.  He  sat  there  with  them 
on  the  porch  till  the  sun  went  down,  chatting 
happily,  entertaining  them  with  tales  of  adven- 
ture all  over  the  world,  and  droll  anecdotes  that 
covered  forty  years  of  public  life.  He -seemed 
to  the  girls,  that  first  day,  to  be  the  most  aston- 
ishing traveler  they  had  ever  met.  He  had  served 
in  many  campaigns.  He  could  tell  them  a  story 
of  the  Civil  War,  and  jump  down  to  Chili  with 
another  tale  about  when  he  helped  put  through 
the  first  railroad  that  crossed  the  old  trails  of 
the  Incas.  Then  before  they  could  catch  their 
breath,  he  was  describing  Egypt  when  the  Suez 
Canal  was  being  built,  how  one  night  he  had 
watched  the  funeral  of  a  little  English  baby, 
the  child  of  one  of  the  chief  engineers. 

* 'There  was  no  coffin  for  it,  no  procession, 
nothing  but  the  young,  fair-haired  English  girl- 
mother  standing  on  the  shore,  and  a  tall,  bare- 
legged Arab,  carrying  the  little  form  in  his  arms 
wrapped  in  the  British  flag,  as  he  crossed  over 
with  the  consul  to  the  'Isle  of  the  Sleepers,'  as 
the  Arabs  called  their  cemetery." 


240  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Oh,  tell  us  some  more,"  pleaded  Ruth  and 
the  rest,  as  he  paused. 

"Let  me  see,"  he  would  lean  back  his  head, 
and  think  of  something  else,  his  eyes  twinkling 
with  the  pleasure  of  it  all.  "Did  I  tell  you  about 
the  time  I  took  tea  with  the  king  of  Masailand 
in  West  Africa?  Didn't  I?  And  he  gave  me 
a  sack  of  purest  ivory  for  a  paper  of  pins?" 

So  he  talked  on,  until  the  last  rim  of  the  sun 
dipped  behind  the  purple  hills  in  the  west,  and 
he  started  up. 

"Bless  my  heart  and  soul,  I  must  be  going," 
he  exclaimed.  "I  expect  the  pirates  to-night." 

The  girls  laughed,  and  Polly  sighed  content- 
edly. 

"You've  traveled  everywhere,  haven't  you?" 
she  asked. 

"Not  quite."  He  smiled  down  at  her  from 
behind  his  thick  curly  beard.  "I  have  yet  to  see 
Glenwood,  Queen's  Landing,  Virginia." 

"And  we'd  just  love  to  have  you  see  it  too," 
responded  Polly  with  quick  southern  warmth. 
"It's  the  dearest  spot  of  all,  we  think." 

After  the  motor  boat  had  passed  from  sight 
around  the  Knob,  the  girls  looked  at  one  another 
in  perplexity. 


YACHT  CLUB  241 

"Now,  who  on  earth  can  he  be?"  asked  Ruth. 
"For  he  must  be  somebody  special,  or  he  never 
would  have  traveled  all  over  the  world,  in  every 
place  where  interesting  things  have  happened  for 
years  and  years.  I  wonder  who  he  is." 

"Just  Mr.  Smith,"  said  Polly,  shaking  her 
head.  "But  I  think  he  is  a  mystery,  girls. 
We'll  ask  the  Captain  about  him." 

"There's  one  thing  certain,"  Kate  added. 
"He's  a  good  neighbor  to  have  handy." 

Before  a  week  had  passed,  even  Aunty  Wel- 
come agreed  with  the  verdict.  Mr.  Smith  of 
Smugglers'  Cove  was  surely  a  desirable  neigh- 
bor. Books  and  magazines  found  their  way  to 
the  house,  as  well  as  fishing  tackle  that  made 
Tom's  devices  look  antiquated.  Several  times 
he  presented  the  girls  with  a  fine  catch  of  mack- 
erel that  was  served  in  Welcome's  best  Southern 
style,  and  Mr.  Smith  always  stayed  to  partake 
of  the  feast. 

"I  met  your  grandfather,  the  Rear-Admiral, 
Miss  Polly,  a  few  years  ago,  at  a  Naval  ban- 
quet," he  said  one  day,  "and  do  you  know,  the 
President  paid  us  each  a  compliment.  He  said 
the  Rear- Admiral  was  the  handsomest  man  pres- 
ent, and  that  I  was  the  most  necessary  to  the 


242  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

nation.  And  the  Admiral  and  I  confided  to 
each  other  later  that  we  would  willingly  ex- 
change places." 

"Now,  Polly,  did  you  hear  what  he  said  to- 
day?" Ruth  asked  in  a  puzzled  tone,  after  he  had 
gone.  "Who  can  he  be?  The  most  necessary 
to  the  nation." 

Polly  shook  her  head. 

"I  don't  know,  and  I  don't  care.  I  like  him 
just  as  he  is.  If  he  should  turn  out  to  be  some- 
body very,  very  famous,  he  wouldn't  seem  to 
belong  to  us  at  all." 

The  Orienta  Club  opened  its  season  with  a 
"hop"  for  the  Juniors,  and  a  reception  for  the 
older  members,  and  an  invitation  found  its  way 
to  Lost  Island. 

"Miss  Calvert  would  say  we  should  not  go  un- 
less we  were  chaperoned,  Polly,"  Kate  said, 
doubtfully. 

"You  are  our  chaperon.  You  are  nearly 
nineteen,  dignified  and  responsible.  We  don't 
need  any  other."  And  Polly  went  serenely 
along  with  her  preparations. 

"This  is  partly  a  business  affair,"  she  ex- 
plained. "In  out-door  sports  strict  rules  all 
tumble  down,  I  mean  social  rules.  We're  just 


iYACHT  CLUB  243 

the  members  of  one  yacht  club  accepting  the  hos- 
pitality of  another  club.  Ruth,  don't  pull  your 
hair  back  so  tight.  It  makes  your  eyebrows  look 
like  a  Japanese  girl's  on  a  fan.  Fluff  it  all  out 
at  the  sides.  Here,  I  will." 

And  Ruth  obediently  sat  down,  while  Polly's 
deft  fingers  took  all  the  primness  and  straight 
lines  out  of  her  hair. 

Tom  had  promised  to  drive  them  over  to  the 
club  house  in  the  Captain's  old-fashioned  carry- 
all. He  came  along  the  shore  road  about  seven, 
and  sent  up  a  long  "Ahoy!"  across  the  sand. 

"I  wish  Nancy  could  go,  too,"  Sue  exclaimed, 
suddenly.  "She'd  love  to." 

"Well,  Sue,  why  couldn't  you  have  thought  of 
it  before  the  last  minute,"  Polly  laughed.  She 
stood  still  for  a  minute,  and  then  said  in  the  tone 
of  decision  all  the  girls  had  learned  to  know, 
"Why,  of  course  Nancy  can  go  along  with  us. 
She's  a  member  of  our  club.  Not  a  resident 
member,  but  nevertheless  she  is  a  member,  and 
our  'coach'  in  all  nautical  knowledge." 

"Would  your  mother  let  her  go,  Tom?"  asked 
Kate,  practically.  Tom  grinned  happily,  and 
hitched  his  one  suspender  up  higher. 

"Sure     she     would,"     he     answered.     "And 


244  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Nancy's  got  a  best  dress  too.  It's  white  with 
little  blue  flowers  on  it,  awful  pretty." 

Very  sweet  and  fresh  Nancy  looked  in  that 
blue  and  white  sprigged  muslin,  when  she  stood 
in  the  doorway  of  the  Carey  cottage  and  kissed 
her  mother  good-by,  while  the  girls  waited 
for  her.  It  was  her  very  first  real  "party,"  as 
she  said,  and  her  cheeks  were  rosy  with  excite- 
ment, and  her  blue  eyes  shining.  Every  year 
she  had  gone  over  to  the  Orienta  with  Tom  to 
stand  down  on  the  shore  and  look  at  the  gayly- 
lighted  verandas  and  happy  throng,  had  watched 
the  other  children  dancing  and  playing  games, 
and  had  longed  to  join  them. 

"I  can't  dance  though,  Polly,"  she  said  now, 
as  they  approached  the  big  white  club  house  with 
its  verandas  all  hung  with  Japanese  lanterns  and 
festoons  of  real  flowers. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  can,  too,"  Polly  assured  her. 
"You  can  dance  a  reel.  Even  a  telegraph  pole 
could  dance  a  reel,  Nancy.  And  we  girls  will 
dance  with  you.  That's  the  way  we  used  to  do 
at  Miss  Calvert's." 

Dorothy  and  Bess  were  on  the  lookout  for 
them,  and  came  down  to  meet  them. 

"We're  so  glad  you've  come,"  they  cried,  hap- 


YACHT  CLUB  245 

pily.  "Because  we've  got  a  real  guest  of  honor 
from  Washington.  He's  a  friend  of  papa's,  and 
he's  the  greatest  naturalist  in  the  country.  Papa 
calls  him  the  citizen  of  the  world,  for  he  loves 
all  the  world,  and  has  been  over  it  ever  so  many 
times.  Papa  says  he  holds  it  right  in  his  hand, 
and  pats  it.  Isn't  that  funny?" 

"The  greatest  naturalist  in  America,"  -Kate 
repeated.  "From  Washington?" 

"Smith!"  exclaimed  Ruth,  suddenly,  "Smith!" 

"Penryhn  Smith,"  added  Polly,  while  the 
Vaughan  girls  looked  at  them  with  curiosity 
fairly  bubbling  out  of  their  lips. 

"Why?  Do  you  all  know  him  already?"  asked 
Bess. 

"Yes,  we  all  know  him  well,"  laughed  Polly. 
"Come  and  see." 

They  hurried  up  the  broad  flight  of  steps  lead- 
ing to  the  main  floor  of  the  club-house.  Ruth 
reached  over,  and  squeezed  Polly's  hand.  She 
was  fairly  treading  on  air.  To  think  that  their 
smuggler  should  have  turned  out  to  be  Dr.  Pen- 
ryhn Smith  of  the  Institute  at  Washington. 
Naturalist  he  was,  yes,  but  more  than  that,  they 
knew.  Statesman,  explorer,  and  most  of  all, 
perhaps,  the  Admiral  had  told  them,  he  was  a 


246  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

lover  of  all  mankind,  a  lover  of  life  in  all  its 
forms.  He  was  the  type  of  man  who  could  hold 
a  city  audience  entranced  at  a  lecture,  then  turn 
and  kneel  beside  a  little  child  to  show  it  the  mir- 
acle of  being  in  the  wild  flower  it  had  just  picked. 
Polly  knew  how  dearly  the  Admiral  valued  his 
friendship,  how  Miss  Calvert  had  taught  them 
to  revere  his  name,  and  she  felt  doubly  happy 
over  this  disclosure  of  the  Smuggler's  identity. 

The  club  house  seemed  to  be  filled  with  guests 
that  night,  Juniors,  and  fathers  and  mothers  of 
Juniors,  and  the  people  from  the  hotel  and  the 
summer  cottages  who  had  been  invited.  The 
girls  were  swept  into  the  middle  of  it  all  before 
they  could  fairly  catch  their  breath.  And  it 
seemed  to  them  as  if  everywhere  they  caught  the 
murmur,  "Doctor  Smith!" 

"We  might  have  known  there  was  more  to  it 
than  Smith,"  whispered  Sue. 

Polly  said  nothing,  but  she  was  doing  a  lot  of 
thinking,  and  finally  when  she  saw  Mrs.  Vaughan 
and  the  Commodore  standing  at  the  head  of  the 
long  room,  there  was  the  smuggler  himself  be- 
side them,  clad  in  white  flannels,  and  his  eyes 
twinkling  merrily,  as  he  caught  sight  of  the 
eight  white-clad  girls  with  Dorothy  and  Bess. 


YACHT  CLUB  247 

Mrs.  Vaughan  started  to  present  them  kindly, 
one  by  one,  to  the  guest  of  honor,  but  Dr.  Smith 
laughed  and  explained. 

"I'm  afraid,  Mrs.  Vaughan,  that  you  are  too 
late  with  your  kind  offices.  These  young  ladies 
have  been  close  neighbors  of  mine,  and  have  been 
very  good  to  me." 

"But  I  don't  think  I  understand,  Doctor,"  said 
Mrs.  Vaughan;  "I  thought  you  only  arrived  from 
Pautipaug  Beach  to-day." 

"I  did,  I  did,"  answered  the  Doctor,  happily. 
"I  came  from  down  the  shore  in  the  Natica  at 
five-thirty,  to  be  exact,  from  the  hotel  at  Pauti- 
paug, but  I  stopped  off  at  my  secret  hiding- 
place.  You  didn't  know  I  had  one,  did  you, 
Mrs.  Vaughan?  Don't  tell  the  Commodore,  for 
he  still  believes  in  me.  Nobody  knows  about  it 
except  these  young  ladies  and  Captain  Carey." 

"Does  the  Captain  know?"  exclaimed  Polly. 

"Yes.  It  was  through  him  I  rented  Smug- 
glers' Island  for  the  summer.  I  can  make  the 
trip  back  and  forth  in  the  Natica  and  study  in 
peace  there.  I  tried  to  keep  under  cover  but 
Miss  Polly,  here,  ferreted  me  out,  and  has  kept 
me  alive  since  on  orange  marmalade." 

"If  we  had  suspected  for  one  minute  that  you 


248  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

were  famous,  we  wouldn't  have  given  you  a  bit," 
said  Polly  severely.  "I  think  you  owe  the  whole 
club  an  apology." 

"I  am  asking  it  now,"  the  Doctor  returned. 
"Mrs.  Vaughan,  you  see  how  they  order  me 
around?  If  I  had  been  a  pirate  or  a  smuggler, 
they  would  have  respected  me." 

"Oh,  I  think  they  will  forgive  you,  Doctor," 
said  Mrs.  Vaughan,  as  she  smiled  around  at  the 
happy,  girlish  faces  surrounding  the  Doctor. 
"In  fact,  we  shall  all  have  to,  for  it  is  a  joke 
on  little  Eagle  Bay.  I  was  reading  only  last 
week,  in  a  New  York  paper,  that  the  eminent 
naturalist,  Dr.  Penrhyn  Smith,  had  vanished  as 
usual,  and  it  was  thought  he  had  slipped  south 
on  a  trip  through  the  Amazonian  wilderness. 
And  all  the  while  you  were  right  here  on  Smug- 
glers' Island." 

"But  quite  near  the  Amazonian  wilderness 
just  the  same,"  the  Doctor  added,  teasingly. 
"They  are  all  girl  warriors  over  on  the  Knob, 
Mrs.  Vaughan.  You  don't  know  them  as  I  do." 

"Why  did  you  go  there  to  live?"  asked  Crul- 
lers, in  her  point-blank  way. 

"It's  a  state  secret,"  replied  the  Doctor, 
gravely.  "I  am  on  the  trail  of  a  certain  polypus, 


YACHT  CLUB  249 

and  if  I  told  you  all  about  it,  you'd  hunt  after 
it  yourself,  and  you  might  possibly  find  it,  and 
take  all  the  credit  away  from  me." 

"What  were  those  queer  tracks  in  the  sand 
around  the  mouth  of  the  cave?"  asked  Kate. 
"Like  a  three-legged  crane.  We  saw  them  the 
day  we  were  at  the  Cove." 

The  Doctor  smiled. 

"I  carry  a  camera  with  me,"  he  said,  amusedly. 
"Those  were  the  tracks  of  the  tripod,  a  rare  beast 
in  captivity." 

"And  does  the  cave  really  go  clear  through  the 
island  to  the  castle?"  asked  Ruth,  eagerly. 

"It  does.  If  you  will  come  over,  you  may  go 
through  it.  But  you  won't  find  any  treasure  or 
loot  there.  Plenty  of  old  barrels,  and  boxes, 
but  nothing  in  them.  The  pirates  must  have 
made  a  clean  sweep  that  last  night." 

"Isn't  he  splendid?"  exclaimed  Kate,  as  they 
gave  place  to  all  the  people  who  were  waiting 
to  be  presented. 

"And  his  flannels  are  so  becoming,"  added 
Isabel,  thoughtfully.  "Do  you  know,  girls,  I 
have  found  out  something  awfully  queer.  All 
of  the  really  'great'  people  I  ever  met  are  much 
simpler  and  pleasanter  and  more  natural,  than 


250  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

the  little,  every-day  people  who  fuss  around, 
and  snub  each  other,  and  just  live  and  grow  fat 
on  trouble.  Isn't  that  so,  Polly?" 

"Well,  there  are  'deceptions'  to  every  rule,  you 
know  Aunty  Welcome  says,"  laughed  Polly.  "I 
wouldn't  say  positively,  but  I  do  think  that  the 
Doctor  is  a  darling." 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE  PEARL  FEST 

THE  following  day  was  Sunday,  the  fourth 
they  had  spent  on  Lost  Island.  The  nearest 
church  was  two  and  a  half  miles  around  the  bay 
shore  road,  at  Eastport,  but  services  were  held 
in  the  open  air  stadium  in  the  pine  grove  back 
of  the  hotel.  The  cottagers  and  shore  people 
attended  here,  and  the  girls  had  been  glad  to  go 
also.  They  tried  to  persuade  Aunty  Welcome 
to  accompany  them,  but  she  steadfastly  refused 
to  budge  along  that  bay  shore  road  until  she  left 
for  good. 

"I'se  hyar,  and  I  knows  I'se  hyar,  and  I  ain't 
a-going  to  trust  myself  to  any  quagmires  and 
pitfalls  along  any  ole  shore  road  till  I  has  to," 
she  declared. 

"Let's  stop  for  the  Captain  and  the  rest," 
Polly  said,  as  they  came  to  the  quiet  cottage  at 
Fair  Havens,  but  it  was  locked,  so  they  went  on. 
The  Captain  usually  took  the  big  carry-all  and 

251 


252  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

drove  over  to  the  village  church.  There  he  could 
sit,  and  look  out  of  the  window  beside  his  pew, 
straight  into  the  little  graveyard,  where  rows 
and  rows  of  Carey  headstones  bade  him  be  of 
good  cheer,  for  the  harbor  was  sure,  and  the 
Pilot  faithful  to  His  promise. 

But  the  girls  loved  the  open  air  service  up  in 
the  pines.  The  stadium  had  been  erected  for 
lectures  and  Chautauqua  meetings  during  the 
summer  months,  and  was  beautifully  situated  on 
Lookout  Hill.  On  one  side  it  commanded  a  fine 
view  over  the  Sickle,  clear  out  to  where  the  old 
Atlantic  rolled  in  in  long,  dark  green  combers. 
Behind  it  were  climbing  aisles  of  eternal  green, 
depths  of  sweet-scented  thicket,  patches  of  wild 
flowers,  and  above  all  the  towering  pines,  with 
their  incessant  murmur  as  though  they  were  an- 
swering their  big  brother,  the  sea. 

The  stadium  was  a  great  wooden  amphithe- 
ater, built  roughly  but  strongly,  and  roofed  to 
protect  its  audiences  against  sudden  summer 
showers.  The  second  Sunday  the  girls  had 
gone,  there  had  been  a  thunder  storm,  and  it 
had  seemed  so  strange  to  watch  the  trees  lashed 
and  torn  by  the  tempest,  while  they  sat  under 
cover  safe  as  could  be. 


YACHT  CLUB  253 

"1  never  was  so  near  a  storm,  and  yet  out  of 
it,"  Sue  had  declared.  "Why,  you  could  have 
reached  out,  and  patted  the  wind  on  the  back, 
and  it  couldn't  have  hurt  you." 

After  service  they  walked  slowly  down  the 
winding,  rustic  walk  that  led  to  the  shore. 

"It  seems  to  me,  girls,  that  the  service  sounds 
ever  so  much  more  solemn  here  than  it  does  in  a 
church,"  Isabel  was  saying.  "It  seems  so  much 
nearer  heaven  here  in  the  woods." 

"But  it's  not,  really,"  Kate  put  in,  briskly. 
"That's  only  an  idea  that  people  have,  and  I 
think  it's  wrong.  Supposing  God  dwelt  only 
in  the  high  places,  what  would  become  of  those 
who  sit  in  darkness,  and  the  shadow  of  death?" 

Polly  was  looking  out  to  sea,  her  brown  eyes 
thoughtful,  and  a  bit  sad.  She  didn't  know  why 
she  felt  sad,  but  she  did,  and  only  the  Captain 
seemed  to  understand  why.  He  had  said  once 
over  at  the  island  that  a  barometer  -probably 
had  no  idea  what  ailed  it,  but  it  ailed  just 
the  same,  and  Polly's  temperament  was  just 
as  volatile. 

"The  other  day,"  she  said,  musingly,  "the 
Captain  said  he  had  been  tramping  the  beach  one 
awful  night  in  a  thunderstorm,  when  he  was  first 


254  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

on  coast  duty,  and  he  felt  -troubled  about  all  the 
boats  that  were  in  peril.  Then  all  at  once  he 
thought  of  those  words,  'He  maketh  His  angels 
spirits,  and  His  ministers  a  flame  of  fire.'  And 
he  felt  strengthened  all  at  once,  so  he  wasn't 
afraid  any  more." 

"How  do  you  do,  girls?"  called  Mrs.  Vaugh- 
an's  pleasant  voice  behind  them,  and  they  turned 
to  find  her  and  the  Doctor  with  Dorothy  and 
Bess.  The  Doctor  was  to  take  dinner  at  the 
hotel  with  the  Commodore's  family,  but  they  all 
walked  back  through  the  pine  grove  together 
to  the  shore  road. 

"Wasn't  the  sermon  nice?"  asked  Bess,  hap- 
pily. "I  love  that  parable  about  the  merchant 
who  sought  pearls." 

The  Doctor  nodded  his  head. 

"That  simile  is  one  of  the  finest  in  the  Bible," 
he  responded.  "I  had  the  good  fortune  to  attend 
the  pearl  harvest  at  Ceylon  twice,  and  it  sets  one 
thinking,  it  certainly  sets  one  thinking." 

"Oh,  tell  us  about  it,  please,  Doctor?"  pleaded 
Polly,  slipping  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "I've  been 
wondering  about  it  ever  since  we  left  the 
stadium.  Are  there  any  pearls  around  here?" 

The  Doctor  was  not  a  Yankee,  but  he  usually 


YACHT  CLUB  255 

answered  one  question  by  asking  another,  in 
Yankee  fashion. 

"What  are  you  all  going  to  do  this  after- 
noon?" 

"Rest,  and  write  letters  home,  and  talk. 
Crullers  and  Aunty  Welcome  will  take  long 
naps.  Sue  and  Ted  will  get  out  their  book  of 
class  songs,  and  sing  and  play  all  of  them  over 
five  times  running.  Isabel  will  read  a  book,  and 
Ruth  and  I  will  write  letters." 

"That's  all  right;  just  as  long  as  you  had  not 
planned  to  go  sailing.  About  four,  Dorothy 
and  Bess  and  I  will  come  over  in  the  Natica 
and  talk  to  you  about  pearls.  I  have  some  un- 
set ones  I  will  show  you." 

"Is  it  true  that  they  lose  their  luster,  and  peo- 
ple put  them  back  into  the  sea  to  regain  it?" 
Kate  inquired. 

"Well,  people  do  it,  but  I  don't  know  whether 
it  helps  them  any.  A  pearl  merchant  will  tell 
you  it  is  better  to  peel  a  pearl,  but  that  is  not  so 
romantic,  is  it?  There  was  one  Empress,  you 
know,  who  sent  her  casket  of  pearls  every  year 
to  be  immersed  in  the  sea.  Now,  don't  ask  any 
more  questions  until  this  afternoon,  then  we'll 
hold  a  talk  fest." 


256  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"^To,  a  pearl  fest"  Polly  suggested.  "And 
we'll  have  a  driftwood  fire  on  the  beach  after 
dark,  and  toast  marshmallows,  and  eat  hermits." 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  hermits  are?" 

"I  had  rather  leave  that  to  Aunty  Welcome, 
for  she  makes  them,  you  know,"  laughed  Polly. 

They  caught  up  with  the  carry-all  on  their  way 
back,  and  walked  beside  it  on  the  path  next  the 
road.  The  Captain  looked  different  without  his 
uniform,  all  dressed  in  a  suit  of  sober  black,  but 
he  was  as  rosy  and  as  twinkly-eyed  as  ever,  and 
he  looked  over  the  girls  with  a  feeling  of  pride. 

"You're  getting  to  be  a  credit  to  the  sou'west 
shore,"  he  told  them.  "Trig  and  taut  as  a  fleet 
of  clipper-built  coasters,  be'ant  they,  mother? 
'But  you  keep  away  from  the  Point,  now  mind. 
There's  a  reef  out  there  that  at  low  tide  would 
rip  up  a  keel  like  a  submarine  mine  hitting  a  Rus- 
sian man-o'-war.  And  any  sort  of  a  west  gale 
would  blow  you  straight  out  on  it." 

"But  there  aren't  any  gales,"  said  Sue. 

"Not  yet,  but  wait  a  bit.  We'll  be  into 
August  shortly,  and  then,  I  tell  you,  look  out. 
There's  some  quick  fellows  come  a'racing  out  of 
the  sou'west  that  would  take  your  heads  off." 

"I  wish  we  could  get  out  into  the  open  sea, 


YACHT  CLUB  257 

though,  before  we  go  home,  Captain  Carey,"  said 
Polly,  wistfully.  "We're  only  shore  sailors. 
Couldn't  we  go  out  around  the  Point  some  fair 
day,  and  reach  the  open?" 

The  Captain  put  his  head  a  bit  on  one  side,  and 
trailed  the  tasseled  end  of  the  whip  between  the 
colt's  ears.  Then  he  shook  his  head. 

"You'd  better  not.  That's  the  safest  way.  If 
you  want  a  good  sail  outside  the  harbor,  I'll  take 
you  for  one  on  a  top  master,  forty  foot  long, 
yes,  I  will.  Billy  Clewen,  the  station  keeper,  has 
one,  and  we'll  sail  clear  out  to  Tarker's  Light. 
How's  that?" 

"Beautiful,"  the  girls  cried,  and  Polly  added, 
"Don't  you  forget,  now." 

"Father  never  forgets  anything,"  Mrs.  Carey 
spoke  up,  contentedly,  "excepting  his  place  in 
the  hymn-book,  and  in  the  Bible  reading  for  each 
Sunday." 

Then  they  all  had  a  good  laugh  at  the  Captain, 
who  was  famous  for  losing  his  place,  and  would 
be  far  ahead  or  far  behind  when  the  congrega- 
tion were  just  moving  along  easily. 

"Avast  there,  where  are  you  bound?"  he  would 
whisper  to  Nancy,  and  nudge  her  to  show  him 
the  right  place. 


258  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"How's  an  old  fellow  to  know  where  they're 
going  to  bring  up  next?"  he  asked,  indig- 
nantly. "They  never  hold  true  to  their  course, 
and  they  are  tacking  before  I  know  it,  and  off 
they  go  like  a  herring  from  a  hook." 

"I  thought  they  caught  herring  in  nets,"  said 
Crullers. 

"They  do,"  agreed  the  Captain,  heartily. 
"And  that's  why  you  can't  make  one  stay  on  a 
hook.  They're  the  most  notional  fish  I  ever  saw. 
I've  had  one  get  on  a  hook,  and  fairly  wink  me 
in  the  eye,  and  wiggle  off  again." 

"Benjy  Carey!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Carey,  "and 
you  a-coming  direct  from  meeting  to  tell  a  yarn 
like  that!" 

But  the  Captain  only  laughed  until  he 
coughed,  and  Nancy  had  to  pat  him  on  the  back. 

That  afternoon  the  yacht  club  entertained 
in  its  own,  particular  fashion.  Nancy  came  over, 
but  Tom  went  down  to  the  station  with  his  father. 
Some  day  he  meant  to  go  on  duty  there  too.  It 
was  one  of  the  Captain's  boasts  that  three  gen- 
erations of  Careys  had  patrolled  that  strip  of 
rock-strewn  coast,  "and  there's  another  one  in 
the  making,"  he  always  added;  so  Tom  would 


YACHT  CLUB  259 

square  his  shoulders  and  try  to  look  like  one  of 
the  crew. 

The  doctor  dined  at  the  hotel  that  day  with 
Commodore  Vaughan  and  his  family,  and  it  was 
late  afternoon  before  the  girls  caught  sight  of 
the  white  motor  boat  cutting  its  way  across  the 
sparkling  waters  of  the  sunlit  bay.  The  broad 
veranda  looked  very  cool  and  restful  that  after- 
noon. Polly  and  Kate  had  spread  all  the  avail- 
able mats  and  had  carried  out  the  round  table 
from  the  sitting-room,  dropping  new  magazines 
over  it  invitingly,  with  a  pitcher  of  fruit  lemon- 
ade and  a  plate  of  hermits  to  nibble  on. 

"Hermits,  do  you  call  these?"  asked  Bess,  as 
she  bit  into  her  third  one.  "I  never  heard  of 
them,  but  they're  just  dandy." 

"Well,  there  are  hermits  and  hermits,"  Polly 
explained.  "But  Aunty  Welcome's  are  the  best 
we've  ever  had,  much  better  than  Annie  May's 
at  the  Hall.  How  do  you  make  them,  Aunty?" 

Welcome  paused  in  the  kitchen  doorway,  her 
hands  on  her  broad  hips,  her  brown  eyes  fairly 
shining  with  delight  at  their  appreciation  of  her 
cooking. 

"I  takes  some  flour,  and  den  I  takes  some 


260  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

'lasses,  and  it  has  to  be  good  'lasses.  None  ob 
dis  syrupy  trash  dat  just  drizzles  down.  I  want 
'lasses  you  can  hyar  go  kerflop  when  it  hits  de 
dish;  yas,  I  do."  She  shook  all  over  with 
laughter.  "Den  I  takes  some  cream,  den  I  takes 
some  spices,  and  some  brown  sugar,  and  some 
eggs,  and  I  mixes  'em  up  good.  Den  I  jes'  puts 
in  all  de  'vailable  fruit  I  got  lying  'round,  rais- 
ins, and  currants,  and  citron,  and  figs,  and  dates, 
and  nuts,  any  ole  thing.  And  den  I  bakes  'em." 

"And  we  eat  'em,"  concluded  Sue,  forcibly. 

Even  the  doctor  shook  with  laughter  over  the 
recipe. 

"But  I'm  afraid  if  we  tried  to  make  some, 
Aunty,  we'd  make  a  failure  of  it,"  he  said. 
"And  they  are  certainly  fine.  Please  may  I 
have  some  marmalade  with  mine?" 

"Now  tell  about  the  pearl  harvest,"  prompted 
Ruth,  when  they  were  all  fairly  settled,  and  the 
supply  of  hermits  had  diminished  somewhat. 
"What  is  it  like?" 

"How  often  have  you  been  there?"  added  Kate. 

"Twice.  Last  year  and  once  when  I  was  a 
youngster  just  out  of  college,  and  bent  on  globe- 
trotting. Ceylon,  you  know,  is  the  great  pearl 
market  of  the  world,  and  yet  the  season  of  the 


rYACHT  CLUB  261 

catch  lasts  only  six  weeks.  But  during  those 
six  weeks,  instead  of  a  long,  jungle-fringed 
beach,  there  rise  the  tents  and  houses  of  the  pearl 
seekers,  like  a  city  of  magic.  Every  morning 
}rou  can  see  the  long  boats  go  out,  hundreds  of 
them,  and  each  carrying  from  sixty  to  seventy 
men." 

"Divers?"  asked  Polly. 

"Not  all.  Some  are  rowers,  and  some  take 
care  of  the  catch  as  the  divers  bring  it  up.  They 
are  all  natives,  and  trained  to  the  work.  When 
they  dive,  all  they  carry  down  with  them  is  their 
basket  and  a  small  tortoise  shell  clip  that  holds 
their  nostrils  closed." 

"Don't  they  have  to  wear  diving  suits?"  asked 
Ted. 

"No.  They  can  stay  under  water  longer  than 
any  human  beings  I  have  ever  seen.  And  after 
the  catch  of  the  day  is  brought  in,  it  is  put  up  at 
auction,  and  then  there  is  excitement  enough  to 
satisfy  anyone.  I  have  often  wondered  why 
some  artist  has  never  put  the  scene  of  the  pearl 
harvest  on  canvas;"  the  doctor's  eyes  were  half 
closed,  as  if  he  could  recall  it  perfectly  even  then. 
"I  have  seen  as  many  as  five  million  oysters  piled 
there,  waiting  to  be  sold,  and  to  the  crowd  it  is 


262  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

one  great  lottery.  Any  shell  in  the  lot  may  con- 
tain a  pearl  worth  thousands.  So  they  scramble, 
and  push  to  get  up  close  to  the  auctioneer,  and 
even  the  children  will  beg  you  for  pennies  so  that 
they  may  buy  a  handful  of  the  shells  and  have  the 
fun  of  opening  them.  Last  year  while  I  stood 
there,  a  little  old  man  in  front  of  me,  with  a 
crutch,  turned  and  begged  me  to  lift  him  up  so 
the  auctioneer  would  be  sure  to  see  him.  He  was 
a  Burmah  merchant  and  told  me  afterwards  he 
was  sent  every  year  to  buy  for  the  native  princes. 
Behind  me  was  a  tall,  quiet  Persian.  They  told 
me  he  had  found  a  pearl  once  years  before  that 
brought  him  over  seventy  thousand  dollars.  It 
was  a  pink  one,  and  flawless.  And  he  had  come 
every  year  since  and  bid  on  every  day's  catch  in 
the  hope  of  finding  its  mate." 

"Oh,  I'd  love  to  be  there,"  cried  Polly  her 
eyes  sparkling  with  excitement.  "And  do  they 
open  them  right  in  front  of  you  so  you  can  see 
them  find  the  pearls?" 

"Some  do.  And  when  a  pearl  of  great  price 
is  found,  even  to-day  the  bidding  jumps  like 
magic  over  that  catch  the  same  as  in  the  old  days 
of  the  parable.  The  merchants  will  still  go  and 


YACHT  CLUB  263 

sell  all  they  have  to  buy  the  one  pearl  if  they 
can  get  it." 

"I  wonder  why  it  is  everybody  loves  pearls  so," 
said  Ruth  thoughtfully.  "I  do  myself,  better 
than  diamonds,  or  any  of  the  colored  stones. 
They  seem  different,  almost  as  if  they  had  life. 
Were  they  ever  alive  inside  the  shells,  Doctor 
Smith?" 

"Let  me  see,"  mused  the  doctor.  "Are  pearls 
alive?  I've  wondered  that  myself.  The  scien- 
tists tell  us,  though,  that  a  pearl  is  a  disease  of 
the  oyster,  and  others  say  it  is  only  a  grain  of 
sand  that  has  slipped  inside  the  shell  and  irritates 
the  mollusc,  so  it  wraps  it  about  with  a  secretion 
of  its  own  that  hardens  and,  after  a  while,  you 
have  the  pearl.  The  Chinese  open  oyster  shells 
and  slip  inside  tiny  images  of  Buddha,  and  the 
oyster  covers  them  with  mother-of-pearl." 

"Oh,  Polly,  don't  you  know  how  we  studied 
last  year  about  the  Malays,  and  their  pearl 
legend?"  exclaimed  Ted,  eagerly.  "They  say 
at  the  full  of  the  moon  the  pearl  oyster  rises  to 
the  surface  of  the  water  and  opens  its  shell,  and 
a  dew  drop  falls  into  it,  and  is  crystallized.  And 
they  say  the  pearl  is  colored  by  the  weather  at 


264  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

the  time  it  was  born.  If  the  night  is  clear,  the 
pearl  is  perfect,  and  if  it  is  cloudy,  the  pearl  will 
be  opalescent  and  dim,  and  if  there's  a  flash  of 
lightning,  the  shell  shuts  up  instantly  and  the 
pearl  will  be  dwarfed." 

"It  makes  me  think  of  the  Polynesian  way  of 
catching  pearls,"  said  the  doctor.  "They  send 
out  a  long  boat  at  sunrise,  a  canoe,  with  some  old 
tribesman  playing  a  weird,  plaintive  melody  on 
a  sort  of  flute,  to  scare  away  evil  spirits.  Young 
girls  are  chosen  to  dive  for  the  shells,  generally 
the  fairest  and  purest  in  the  village  and  they 
poise  themselves  in  the  prow  of  the  canoe  and 
dive  just  as  the  sun  rises." 

"I  shall  try  it  to-morrow  morning,"  said  Polly 
promptly,  her  eyes  dancing  with  mischief.  "Ted 
and  Sue  shall  play  on  their  mandolins  for  me, 
and  I  will  dive  for  pearls." 

"And  you  dare  to  call  me  vain,"  teased  Isabel. 
"I  guess  if  anyone  is  to  dive,  I  will." 

"Let's  all  dive,"  suggested  Kate,  the  peace- 
maker, laughing.  "Tell  us  some  more,  please, 
doctor,  and  don't  mind  these  giddy  creatures." 

Ruth  leaned  forward,  reflectively,  her  eyes 
dreamy  and  full  of  thought. 

"Polly,"  she  said,  "didn't  Mary  Stuart  love 


YACHT  CLUB  265 

pearls?  Didn't  she  always  carry  a  rosary  of 
pearls  with  her,  and  didn't  we  read  some  place 
that  it  was  found  clasped  in  her  hands  after  she 
was  killed?" 

"Here,  child,  stop  talking  about  such  gloomy 
things,"  Ted  interposed,  briskly,  lifting  the  tall 
pitcher  of  fruit  lemonade.  "May  I  pour  you 
another  glass,  doctor?  It's  delicious.  Polly 
dissolved  some  pearl  dust  in  it,  and  dreamed  she 
was  Cleopatra." 

"I  never  heard  sech  talk  in  all  my  born  days, 
doctah,  I  never  did,"  exclaimed  Aunty  Welcome, 
putting  her  head  out  rebukingly.  "Ain't  dey  a 
lot  ob  crazy  creeturs,  sah?" 

"Full  of  the  joy  of  life,  Welcome,  full  of  the 
springtime,"  replied  the  doctor,  happily.  "Let 
them  alone.  I  can  stand  it.  Give  me  some 
more  pearl  dust  elixir,  Miss  Edwina." 

"Pearls  stand  for  tears,  really  and  truly,"  said 
Dorothy,  seriously.  "I've  always  heard  that. 
The  night  before  the  king  was  killed,  Marguerite 
of  Valois  dreamed  all  her  diamonds  had  turned 
to  pearls,  our  history  teacher  told  us." 

"Stop  it,"  Ted  insisted.  "Can't  you  see  how 
melancholius-like  Polly  and  Ruth  are  looking? 
I  shall  be  afraid,  pretty  soon,  to  touch  a  pearl 


266  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

with  a  ten-foot  pole,  even  if  I  find  one  in  my 
oyster  stew." 

"Don't  mind  them,  doctor,"  said  Polly,  cheer- 
fully. "The  pearl  is  my  birthstone,  and  I  love 
it  dearly,  and  you  won't  find  me  weeping  often. 
See,  it's  past  sundown  now.  We're  going  to 
set  fire  to  that  pile  of  driftwood  down  on  the 
beach,  and  toast  marshmallows  around  it,  while 
the  glee  club  holds  forth." 

"Just  one  minute,"  called  the  doctor,  as  they 
rose.  "I  want  you  to  look  at  this." 

The  girls  gathered  around  his  chair,  as  he  drew 
a  tiny  packet  from  his  pocket,  wrapped  in  tissue 
paper,  and  unfolding  it  disclosed  several  unset 
pearls,  large  as  peas,  and  rarely  beautiful. 

"Do  you  carry  them  with  you  like  that?"  asked 
Kate. 

"Just  like  that,"  replied  the  doctor,  blithely, 
and  he  let  them  roll  about  in  the  palm  of  his 
hand.  "I  bought  them  at  the  pearl  harvest,  and 
I  like  to  have  them  close  to  me.  They  say  that 
Napoleon,  when  he  sat  and  dreamed  of  the  con- 
quest of  the  world,  loved  to  feel  unset  pearls 
slip  through  his  fingers.  So,  why  not  I  ?" 

"Oh,  they  are  lovely!"  Polly  touched  them 
lingeringly.  "Isn't  it  too  bad  that  such  things 


TIRST  BATCH  OF  MARSHMALLOWS  READY!"  CALLED  RUTH 


iYACHT  CLUB  267 

should  be  shut  up  in  a  shell  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean?" 

Ruth  was  calling  to  them  to  hurry,  for  the 
marshmallows  were  waiting  to  be  cooked,  and 
the  fire  was  started,  and  as  they  walked  down  to 
the  beach  the  doctor  quoted : 

"  'Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene,  the  dark,  un- 

fathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear, 
Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen,  and  waste  its 

sweetness  on  the  desert  air.'  " 

"I  think  those  pearls  in  your  pocket  are  just 
as  hidden  and  wasted,  doctor,"  said  Sue,  delib- 
erately, "as  if  they  were  in  a  dark,  unfathomed 
cave." 

"Do  you?  Well,  it  was  kind  of  you  not  to 
say  as  if  they  were  cast  before  swine,"  laughed 
the  doctor. 

"One  of  Sue's  charms  is  her  engaging  frank- 
ness," put  in  Kate. 

"I  forgive  her,  for  it's  in  a  good  cause.  And 
some  day,  if  I  find  anyone  who  will  love  and 
cherish  them  more  than  I  do,  I  may  give  up 
one." 

"First  batch  of  marshmallows  ready,"  called 
Ruth,  and  the  pearl  fest  was  over. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  CAPTAIN'S  PARTY 

"Do  you  girls  realize  that  it  is  the  first  week 
in  August?" 

It  was  about  a  week  after  the  doctor's  talk,  and 
they  had  just  come  up  to  the  porch  after  a  dip 
in  the  bay. 

"Let's  stay  down  in  the  sand,  and  dry  off," 
Ted  suggested.  "It's  early  yet." 

So  down  they  trailed  again,  and  sat  on  the 
sand.  One  special  charm  of  belonging  to  this 
yacht  club  was  that  you  could  do  just  what  you 
wanted  when  you  wanted.  As  Polly  said,  it  took 
all  the  fun  out  of  anything  when  you  had  to  wait 
for  it. 

"Poor  old  King  Solomon,"  she  would  say,  "I 
don't  know  what  it  was  he  longed  for,  but  I  am 
sure  he  never  got  it,  because  he  said  so  mourn- 
fully, 'Hope  deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick.' 
And  I  know  just  how  he  felt  when  he  said  it." 

"I  ought  to  mend  my  jacket,"  said  Sue,  easily. 
"But  there's  plenty  of  time." 

268 


YACHT  CLUB  269 

"That's  what  Sue  always  says,"  Kate  declared. 
"I  think  her  motto  and  Ted's  should  be  'There's 
plenty  of  time.' ' 

"Well,  there  isn't,"  Polly  remarked,  as  she  sat 
down  on  a  sand  dune,  and  rested  her  chin  on  her 
hands,  with  her  hair  falling  around  her  like  a 
meditative  mermaid.  "The  regatta  is  the  fif- 
teenth, and  we've  got  to  have  our  boats  all  spick 
and  span  for  the  race." 

"You're  not  really  going  to  race  for  the  Junior 
cup,  are  you,  Polly?"  Isabel's  tone  was  very 
discouraging. 

"I  am."  Polly  smiled  at  the  big  white  club 
house  across  the  bay  quite  as  if  she  expected  it 
to  nod  back  at  her.  "The  Tidy  Jane  is  just  as 
fine  a  catboat  as  there  is  on  the  bay,  and  so  are 
all  our  boats.  Nancy's  going  to  race  the  Pirate, 
Tom's  knockabout,  and  the  other  afternoon 
when  we  sailed  to  the  inlet  and  back,  I  had 
the  best  of  her  all  the  way.  Of  course  I 
shall  race.' 

"Is  there  a  prize?"  asked  Crullers,  the  practi- 
cal. The  girls  all  broke  into  a  peal  of  laughter, 
and  Ruth  declared  that  Crullers  never  could  see 
anything  in  empty  glory.  There  had  to  be  a 
tangible  goal  for  her  to  exert  herself. 


270 

"There's  a  silver  cup  for  the  big  boats  to  race 
for,"  Polly  replied.  "Commodore  Vaughan's 
sloop,  Adventure,  has  held  it  for  sixty-footers 
for  three  years,  they  say.  And  there's  a  smaller 
cup  for  twenty-footers  and  under.  We'd  come 
under  that  head." 

"What  will  you  use  it  for,  Polly,  after  you 
win  it?"  asked  Sue,  innocently,  and  Polly 
promptly  threw  sand  at  her,  till  she  cried  quarter. 

"Whether  I  win  it  or  not,  it's  the  sport  of  the 
thing  that  counts,"  she  said.  "I  never  saw  a  race 
in  all  my  life  that  I  didn't  wish  I  was  in  it,  just 
for  the  chance  of  winning.  It  isn't  the  prize  so 
much,  it's  the  honor  of  the  thing,  and  the  sport." 

"I  know,  Polly,  that's  perfectly  right,"  re- 
joined Kate,  approvingly.  "What  if  no  one 
ever  entered  a  race  for  fear  they  might  not  win; 
there'd  be  no  racing  at  all." 

"Well,  if  you  intend  entering,  I  shall  too," 
said  Sue.  "For  I  know  that  the  Patsy  D.  can 
outsail  anything  on  this  bay  if  she  once  'gets 
a' going,'  as  the  Captain  says.  The  trouble  is, 
she  won't  'get  a' going'  until  she  has  a  mind  to. 
I  can't  seem  to  make  her  grab  hold  of  a  breeze 
and  pull." 

"You  don't  let  go  your  main  sheet  right," 


,YACHT  CLUB  271 

Polly  told  her.  "You  hoist  your  sail,  and  let  it 
wobble  before  you  let  the  boom  swing  about,  and 
catch  the  wind  into  the  sail  right.  Makes  me 
think  of  a  story  the  Captain  told  about  one  of 
the  summer  cottagers  last  year,  who  went  out 
with  Tom  and  him  one  day.  There  was  a  big 
sea  on,  and  when  a  puff  of  wind  caught  her,  the 
Captain  called  out,  'Let  go  that  jib,  let  go  that 
jib'.  And  the  guest  was  really  angry  and  in- 
dignant. 'Who's  touching  your  old  jib,  I 
should  like  to  know,'  he  said,  huffily.  The  Cap- 
tain just  shook  when  he  told  it." 

Ruth  sat  up  suddenly,  and  put  back  her  hair 
from  her  face. 

"I  just  saw  a  boat  put  off  from  the  Orienta 
dock,"  she  said.  "It  looks  like  the  Nixie.  Bess 
is  at  the  tiller.  I  wonder  what  they  can  want. 
They're  making  for  here." 

It  took  hardly  ten  minutes  to  cross  the  bay 
at  its  narrow  end,  with  a  good  wind  to  help,  and 
before  the  girls  had  time  to  run  up  to  the  cottage 
and  dress,  the  Niocie  was  at  the  landing,  with 
reefed  sails. 

"Mamma  sent  us  over,"  Dorothy  exclaimed,  as 
soon  as  she  stepped  ashore.  "The  Portland 
brought  a  consignment  of  fruit  for  the  club  last 


272  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

night,  and  papa  sends  you  over  a  basket  of  it 
with  his  compliments." 

The  girls  bore  the  heavy  basket  up  to  the  porch 
and  promptly  explored  its  contents.  There  was 
a  large  watermelon,  some  canteloupes,  peaches 
and  pears,  and  a  box  of  stuffed  dates. 

"Mamma  put  those  in  because  she  says  she 
knows  what  girls  like,"  said  Bess,  perching  her- 
self on  the  porch  railing  contentedly.  "And 
what  do  you  think?  We've  teased  and  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  come  over  here  with  you  for 
regatta  week,  and  now  we  may  if  you  will  let 
us.  You  can  get  a  better  view  of  the  bay  from 
this  porch  than  you  can  from  the  club." 

"Well,  young  lady,  you'll  get  your  view  of 
the  race  from  the  stern  locker  of  the  Nixie'' 
said  Dorothy,  firmly.  "Polly  won't  allow  us  in 
the  club  unless  we  agree  to  race  for  the  glory 
of  it,  will  you?" 

"No,  ma'am,"  returned  Polly,  serenely,  as  she 
knelt  down,  and  spread  out  several  newspapers. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Polly?"  asked 
Isabel,  who  believed  firmly  in  the  fitness  of 
things.  "Oh,  don't  cut  into  the  melon  out  here, 
dear.  Put  it  on  the  ice,  and  let  it  cool." 

"Put  it  on  the  ice!"  Polly  repeated,  with  fine 


YACHT  CLUB  273 

scorn.  "Listen  to  her,  girls.  You'd  think  we 
had  a  whole  refrigerator  handy.  Dorothy,  all 
the  ice  we  own  is  wrapped  up  in  Ruth's  old 
waterproof  cape,  in  a  tub  down  in  the  cellar. 
It's  about  the  size  of  a  pincushion,  and  if  I  were 
to  set  this  watermelon  on  it,  it  would  just  evapo- 
rate. We  will  eat  the  melon  now  to  save  it." 

"It's  plenty  cold,"  Dorothy  helped  lift  the 
melon  down  on  the  papers.  "But,  Polly,  will  it 
be  all  right  if  we  come  over  and  stay  for  regatta 
week?" 

"It  will,  and  we'll  be  ever  and  ever  so  glad  to 
have  you.  It's  very  stylish,  Isabel,  to  entertain 
guests  during  a  regatta  week.  Will  you  please 
bring  along  your  own  blankets,  as  we  haven't 
enough  to  go  'round." 

"Indeed,  we  will,"  Dorothy  cried,  happily, 
"and  I'm  so  pleased.  Mamma  always  is  busy 
regatta  week,  and  so  is  papa,  and  Bess  and  I  just 
have  to  look  after  ourselves.  She's  going  on  the 
Adventure  too  for  the  race.  Oh,  Polly,  it's 
splendid  to  watch  them.  Last  year,  at  the  finish, 
the  Adventure  and  Mermaid  were  right  together, 
and  we  all  stood  up  on  chairs,  and  waved  flags 
at  them,  and  shouted  as  they  came  down  the  last 
stretch  with  every  inch  of  canvas  crowded  on." 


274  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Polly  was  very  busy  carving  the  watermelon 
in  fancy  fashion,  so  that  when  it  fell  apart,  it 
looked  like  a  huge,  red-hearted  lily. 

"Makes  it  taste  better,"  she  said,  judiciously. 
"Who  won  last  year,  Dorothy?" 

"Oh,  the  Adventure,  of  course.  Right  at  the 
very  last  they  crowded  on  another  reef — what  do 
you  call  that  little  bit  of  a  sail  way  up  top  on  a 
sloop,  Polly?" 

Polly  shook  her  head. 

"T" gallant  something,  isn't  it?  That's  what 
the  Captain  calls  my  eyebrows.  Tarry  top 
lights,  and  t'gallant  eyebrows,  so  it  must  mean 
something  way  high  up." 

"Probably,"  Dorothy  agreed.  "Anyway, 
they  let  out  another  reef,  and  the  Adventure  just 
slipped  by  the  Mermaid  like  a  bit  of  down. 
Papa's  boat's  a  sloop.  It  seems  to  me  it's  all 
sails.  It  looks  like  a  great  gull  with  outspread 
wings  when  it's  going  full  tilt  out  to  sea." 

"You  must  always  speak  of  a  ship  as  she  or 
her,"  corrected  Bess.  "Papa  called  you  a  sand- 
piper for  that,  Dolly." 

"I  don't  care,"  Dorothy  laughed.  "I  want  to 
tell  the  girls  about  it.  There  are  six  staterooms 
on  it,  and  when  the  season  closes  up  here  at  Eagle 


YACHT  CLUB  275 

Bay,  we  sail  south  to  Boston,  and  then  home. 
Bess  and  I  go  to  boarding-school." 

Just  then  Tom  appeared  around  the  west 
shore,  holding  down  the  Pirate,  while  he  called, 

"Want  anything  over  to  Eastport?" 

"Yes.  Mail,  potatoes  and  soap,"  called  back 
Polly,  with  a  smile  and  wave  of  her  hand;  then 
to  Dorothy,  as  if  no  interruption  had  occurred, 
"We're  going  out  with  the  Captain  for  a  sail 
around  the  Point  Light,  and  down  to  Tarker's 
Light.  He  said  he'd  take  us  if  we  behaved  for  a 
week,  and  we  have.  Haven't  been  out  once  in  a 
bad  wind,  haven't  made  any  trouble  at  all,  so 
now  we're  going.  Why  can't  you  and  Bess  stay 
and  have  dinner  with  us,  though?  We  won't 
start  before  two,  and  Aunty's  making  clam  pie, 
Maryland  style,  and  baked,  stuffed  tomatoes,  and 
peach  dumplings." 

"Oh,  we'll  stay  fast  enough,"  cried  Bess,  while 
Dorothy  just  smiled.  "You  do  have  the  best 
things  to  eat  over  here  that  I  know  anything 
about.  Papa  says  he's  coming  over  some  day 
just  to  sample  them,  and  find  out  if  it's  really 
true.  Doctor  Smith  says  it  is;  so  papa  can't 
really  tell  us  out  and  out  that  we  are  coloring  it 
up  a  little." 


276 

"Tell  him  we'd  be  delighted  to  entertain  him 
any  time,  and  Mrs.  Vaughan,  too,"  exclaimed 
Polly,  with  true  Southern  hospitality.  "We'll 
have  fried  sweet  potatoes,  and  fried  chicken,  and 
corn  fritters,  and  corn  pone,  all  from  Aunty 
Welcome's  special  recipes.  She'll  be  so  proud  to 
get  up  a  dinner  and  we'd  love  to  have  you." 

"Where's  Isabel?"  asked  Sue  suddenly. 
"Did  she  go  up  to  dress?" 

"No,  I'm  up  here  in  the  hammock.  I  don't 
want  to  get  all  freckled  in  that  sunlight,"  came 
Isabel's  tones  from  the  shadiest  corner  of  the 
porch. 

"Pull  her  forth,  girls,"  ordered  Polly,  gaily. 
"She's  too  exclusive.  She  just  wants  to  set  her- 
self up  before  us  as  a  mirror  of  style,  and  we 
won't  have  it.  Pull  her  forth,  and  walk  her  in 
the  sun  till  she's  as  freckled  as  a  cowslip.  What 
do  you  think,  Dorotlry,  this  young  person  wants 
to  wear  a  bathing  cap  with  a  bow  on  the  front 
and  a  ruffle  around  it  like  an  old  maid's  nightcap, 
and  she  takes  a  bar  of  violet  scented  soap  with 
her  into  the  deep  blue  sea  when  she  trips  down 
to  bathe.  It  once  dropped  like  a  stone  down  to 
the  bottom,  and  she  never  got  it." 

'Though  lost  to  sight,  to  memory  dear,' ' 


,YACHT  CLUB  277 

quoted  Sue;  she  linked  arms  with  Ted  and  sang 
the  refrain  over  and  over  with  variations,  until 
Isabel  put  her  fingers  in  her  ears  and  ran  for  the 
house.  Suddenly  the  majestic  form  of  Aunty 
Welcome  appeared  on  the  porch,  and  waved  a 
dish  towel  at  them. 

"Ain't  dey  nobody  at  all  going  to  eat  clam 
pie?"  she  called.  "If  you  all  don't  look  like  a 
mess  ob  turtles  burrowing  in  de  sand,  den  I  miss 
my  guess.  And  every  one  eating  watermelon. 
Well,  for  de  love  ob  cats !  Miss  Polly,  don't  you 
know  you's  going  ter  be  so  freckled  dat  you  can't 
find  de  jining  places?  You  come  on  up  out  ob 
dat  sand  now,  you  hyar  me?" 

"Yes'm,"  said  Polly,  meekly,  and  the  rest 
trailed  after  her,  for  Aunty  Welcome's  word  was 
law  on  Lost  Island. 

After  dinner  the  Vaughan  girls  had  to  return, 
but  the  others  dressed  and  sat  out  on  the  steps, 
awaiting  the  Captain's  coming.  The  everyday 
suits  of  blue  duck  had  been  discarded,  and  they 
had  dressed  in  festal  array  to  honor  the  Captain. 
They  were  all  in  their  best  yachting  suits  of  white 
duck,  trimmed  in  dark  blue,  with  dark  blue  reef- 
er jackets,  and  caps  to  match.  But  before  the 
trip  was  over,  when  the  seas  had  swashed  up  mer- 


278  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

rily  over  the  sloop,  as  she  keeled  over  to  the  lee- 
shore,  they  wished  they  had  worn  the  blue  duck. 

"What  boat  will  he  bring  that  can  carry  all 
of  us?"  asked  Sue. 

"Tom  said  the  sloop,"  answered  Polly,  as  she 
sat  up  on  the  railing,  and  re-tied  Crullers'  hair 
bows  into  a  semblance  of  neatness  and  taste. 
"It  belongs  to  the  light-house  keeper  at  the  Point, 
but  the  Captain  can  borrow  it  whenever  he  wants, 
and  it's  a  sea-going  craft." 

"Is  it,  indeed?"  giggled  Sue.  "Girls,  do  you 
notice  how  Commodore  Polly  tosses  around 
nautical  phrases  real  careless-like  nowadays?" 

There  hove  into  sight  around  the  Knob,  just 
then,  the  Captain  and  his  sloop.  Nancy  and 
Tom  were  aboard  too,  and  acting  as  able  sea- 
men. 

"Polly,  I'll  get  your  soap  and  potatoes  and 
mail  to-night,"  shouted  Tom,  as  they  came  within 
hail.  "I  saw  Billy  Clewen  over  at  the  Inlet  with 
his  tender,  and  I  hopped  in  so  as  to  meet  father 
at  the  Point,  and  come  on  down." 

"That's  all  right,"  Polly  responded.  "Oh, 
girls,  isn't  she  handsome,"  as  they  watched  the 
sloop  under  the  Captain's  handling.  Steadily, 
easily,  without  any  apparent  fuss  or  bother,  he 


YACHT  CLUB  279 

brought  her  about,  reefed  her  sails,  and  left  her 
standing,  as  Tom  said,  quiet  as  a  lamb,  without 
a  halter  on. 

"Who  puts  a  halter  on  a  lamb  anyway,  Tom?" 
teased  Nancy.  "Besides,  the  Lucy  C.  has  a 
halter  on.  Didn't  you  see  me  just  drop  it  over- 
board? We  can't  bring  her  up  to  the  landing, 
Polly.  She  draws  nine  feet — " 

"Seven,"  corrected  the  Captain,  as  he  smoked 
comfortably  on  his  pet  pipe,  an  old  briarwood 
whose  bowl  was  all  charred  from  long  usage. 
"And  ten-foot  beam." 

"How  can  we  get  aboard,  then?"  asked  Polly. 

"I'm  coming  after  you  in  the  'dink,"  Tom 
answered. 

"Well,  my  land!  If  I  ever  see  sech  a  top- 
heavy,  lop-sided  thing,"  murmured  Aunty  Wel- 
come. "Is  you  all  going  to  trust  your  precious 
lives  out  in  mid  ocean  in  sech  a  contrivance?" 

"Don't  you  fret  one  bit,  not  when  we're  with 
Captain  Carey,"  Polly  laughed  as  she  waved  her 
hand.  The  last  girl  stepped  aboard,  and  the 
sails  were  hoisted.  After  the  little  spreads  of 
canvas  on  their  own  boats,  it  seemed  to  the  girls 
as  if  the  sails  of  the  Lucy  C.  were  gigantic,  but 
Tom  and  his  father  managed  them  trimly,  and 


280  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

as  the  wind  filled  them,  they  struck  out  across 
the  bay  with  a  tilt  to  leeward  that  was  delightful. 

"Captain,  do  I  walk  with  the  right  sort  of 
roll?"  asked  Ted,  her  hands  deep  in  her  reefer 
pockets,  her  cap  on  the  back  of  her  red  curls,  as 
she  stepped  boldly  out  on  the  slanting  deck. 
But  the  sloop  dipped  to  a  wave,  and  came  up 
with  a  lurch,  and  Ted  sat  down  with  startling 
suddenness. 

"Well,  not  quite,"  the  Captain  answered  from 
the  wheel,  his  blue  eyes  twinkling.  "You'd  bet- 
ter get  acquainted  with  her  first.  Now,  you 
can't  get  up  and  do  a  grand  march  along  the 
deck  of  a  driving  sloop.  It's  against  all  human 
nature  and  boat  nature.  You've  got  to  sit  tight, 
and  mind  the  sloop,  and  follow  her  moods,  and 
get  ahead  of  them  too.  A  sloop  has  got  more 
moods  than  any  boat  I  know  of.  A  yawl  is 
sort  of  divided  in  her  ways,  like  a  widow  after 
her  second  husband.  She's  got  one  before,  and 
one  behind,  so  to  speak,  and  it  steadies  her  a  bit, 
but  a  sloop's  sails  act  in  close  sympathy,  and 
when  one  of  them  starts  acting  kittenish,  the  rest 
follow  suit." 

"How  large  is  this  one,  Captain?"  asked  Ruth, 


YACHT  CLUB  281 

holding  to  her  cap,  as  the  wind  blew  freshly 
around  her. 

"About  forty  foot,  more  or  less.  Her 
draught's  seven  foot." 

"Why  here  we  are  to  the  channel  already," 
Polly  sang  out,  as  they  slipped  past  Smugglers' 
Cove,  and  could  see  the  view  out  to  sea  around 
the  Point.  The  doctor  was  sitting  down  on  the 
landing  fishing;  fishing  tranquilly,  in  his  own 
way.  There  were  lines  hanging  all  around  him, 
fastened  to  the  planks  with  an  invention  of  his 
own,  by  which  a  little  bell  rang  every  time  a  fish 
took  the  bait.  Placidly  he  sat  there,  his  hat 
tilted  forward  to  shield  his  eyes,  and  a  pile  of 
magazines  beside  him  betraying  his  real  occupa- 
tion. The  girls  called  and  called  to  him;  at  last 
he  looked  up  and  waved  to  them. 

As  they  rounded  the  Point  the  wind  freshened 
considerably.  It  was  glorious  to  sail  with  the 
sharp  bow  cutting  the  water  like  a  knife,  and 
throwing  up  great  clouds  of  spray  that  drenched 
the  girls  like  an  April  shower  as  the  head  wind 
threw  it  back  on  them.  Overhead  the  canvas 
tugged  until  the  rigging  sang  a  tune  all  its  own. 

Ted  and  Sue  were  singing  at  the  tops  of  their 


282  ,THE  POLLY  PAGE 

voices,  arms  linked  closely,  backed  up  against 
what  Crullers  called  "the  high  side  of  her."  The 
others  joined  in  the  choruses,  except  Polly,  who 
stood  beside  the  Captain  at  the  wheel.  There 
was  a  look  in  her  dark  eyes  that  matched  his  own, 
as  she  half  closed  them  in  the  face  of  the  wind,  a 
look  out  at  the  open  sea  they  both  loved  well. 
Once  the  Captain  turned  his  head,  and  smiled 
down  at  her,  as  if  to  let  her  know  he  understood 
her  feelings  exactly,  and  he  let  her  help  with  the 
jib  several  times,  while  he  and  Tom  managed 
the  main  sail,  and  Nancy  held  her  steady  on  her 
course  at  the  little  pilot  wheel. 

"It's  ever  so  much  rougher  out  here  than  it  is 
in  the  bay,  isn't  it?"  Isabel  called  faintly,  but  the 
wind  drowned  her  voice,  and  she  sat  huddled  up 
on  a  locker  with  her  coat  turned  up  around  her 
ears,  for  all  the  world  like  a  ship's  cat  in  a  storm, 
Tom  said. 

Tarker's  Light  was  about  five  miles  down  the 
west  shore  towards  Portland.  The  seas  were 
longer  and  heavier  than  those  on  the  bay,  but  the 
sloop  rode  them  easily,  and  only  shipped  one  big 
green  fellow,  as  the  Captain  tacked  south  of  the 
Light,  and  cut  across  back  towards  home.  It 
splashed  up  over  the  deck  house,  and  caught 


iYACHT  CLUB  283 

Isabel  and  the  rest  fairly,  until  they  shrieked. 
Polly  and  Nancy  escaped,  for  they  were  with  the 
Captain,  and  they  rounded  the  big  bell  buoy  out 
in  mid  channel  that  clanked  a  warning  note  as  if 
it  had  a  cold  in  its  head,  Sue  said. 

It  was  after  five  when  they  came  up  to  the  Life 
Saving  Station  on  the  Point,  and  stood  by  hand- 
somely while  Billy  Clewen,  the  keeper,  came  out 
in  a  dory  and  took  off  the  girls. 

"I'm  thinking  that  I'll  send  you  home  by  the 
shore  road,  with  Tom  and  a  lantern,"  said  the 
Captain,  as  they  walked  up  the  beach  towards 
the  low  wooden  buildings  that  nestled  among  the 
great  hummocks  of  sand  at  the  Point.  "I'm  on 
the  eight  to  twelve  watch  to-night,  and  I  can 
walk  a  ways  with  you  myself,  but  the  wind's 
dropped  down  with  the  sun,  and  there'll  hardly 
be  a  puff  to  carry  you  back  by  water." 

"How  lonesome  it  looks  out  here,"  said  Polly, 
standing  on  one  of  the  sand  dunes,  and  gazing 
around  her.  The  Point  of  the  Sickle  came  down 
to  what  Tom  called  a  mere  "spit  of  sand." 
There  were  few  rocks  out  there,  except  for  the 
reef  that  lay  east  of  the  channel,  towards  the 
east  shore.  On  the  Point  there  was  just  a  long, 
low  stretch  of  sand,  with  great  circling  combers 


284  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

flowing"  in  ceaselessly,  breaking  one  above  an- 
other on  the  long,  shallow  shingle.  Dark  green 
they  were  underneath,  then  lighter,  and  lighter, 
as  the  sunlight  shot  them  through  with  rainbow 
hues,  and  last  of  all  the  curling  plumes  of  spray 
tossed  on  their  crests. 

"Isn't  it  all  pretty,"  cried  Ruth,  her  cheeks 
turning  pink  as  she  ran  to  Polly's  side.  "Don't 
you  know  some  place  in  Kipling  where  he  tells 
about  the  white  horses  of  the  sea?  Oh,  Polly, 
I  love  it  all  so.  I  never  saw  the  real  ocean  be- 
fore. I  mean  to  stand  on  a  shore,  and  look  out 
and  out  and  out  on  just  waves,  and  know  that 
there's  no  land  for  a  thousand  miles." 

"Farther  than  that,"  said  Polly.  "I  think  it's 
beautiful." 

"So  it  is,  so  it  is,  now,"  agreed  the  Captain, 
"but  'tain't  so  pretty  in  the  winter,  when  the  ice 
piles  up,  and  the  sleet  beats  you  half  down  to 
the  ground,  when  you  try  to  fight  your  way  in  its 
face." 

"Do  you  have  to  patrol  all  night  long  on  the 
beach?"  Polly  asked,  in  her  earnest,  compassion- 
ate way. 

"Well,  no.  We  take  it  in  watches.  One 
watch  leaves  about  sunset,  and  they  travel  two 


YACHT  CLUB  285 

miles  to  the  half-way  house  over  yonder,  and 
they  meet  the  next  watch,  and  so  it  goes  through 
the  night." 

"What's  the  name  of  that  queer  light  they 
carry  around  their  necks?"  asked  Crullers.  "It 
explodes,  I  think." 

"That's  the  Coston  light,"  said  the  Captain. 
"I'll  show  you  some  when  we  get  inside  the  sta- 
tion. We  don't  use  them  unless  there's  a  ship 
in  danger  at  night.  It's  to  let  the  crew  know 
they  have  been  seen  and  help  will  be  sent. 
There's  a  spring  you  tap,  and  a  percussion  cap 
explodes  that  sets  fire  to  the  red  light.  Last 
spring,  along  the  first  of  April,  we  got  the  tail 
end  of  a  gale  that  had  traveled  all  along  the 
coast,  and  still  had  spunk  enough  to  run  a 
schooner  on  the  reef  yonder.  We  saw  her  beat- 
ing her  way  down  about  sunset.  Lumber  boat 
she  was,  bound  for  Boston.  I  says  then  to  Billy 
Clewen  over  at  the  Light  that  she'd  never  get  by 
the  Point.  So  we  was  looking  out  for  her,  but 
the  crew  were  all  Gloucester  boys,  and  they 
wouldn't  give  up  till  she'd  struck  fair  and 
square." 

"Then  what?"  Polly's  dark,  straight  brows 
drew  together  anxiously.  She  looked  out  at  the 


286 

reef  that  showed  its  teeth  about  the  incoming 
tide. 

"We  lost  two  of  them,"  said  the  Captain. 
"They  was  brothers,  poor  laddies.  They  came 
ashore  two  and  a  half  miles  below  here.  But  we 
took  off  the  rest." 

"Oh,  I  think  it's  terrible,  all  the  wrecks  there 
are,"  exclaimed  Ruth,  tensely.  "Death  seems 
so  useless  when  it's  an  accident." 

"Well,  I'm  thinking  there  ain't  anything  that 
happens  under  the  sun  you  can  call  useless,"  re- 
joined the  old  sailor,  placidly. 

Polly  began  to  sing,  her  voice  rising  clear  and 
high  on  the  breeze  that  blew  up  from  the  west, 
as  the  sun  went  down. 

"Three  fishers  went  sailing  out  into  the  west, 
Out  into  the  west  as  the  sun  went  down, 
Each  thought  on  the  woman  who  loved  him  the  best, 

And  the  children  stood  watching  them  out  of  the  town. 
For  men  must  work  and  women  must  weep, 
And  there's  little  to  earn,  and  many  to  keep, 
Though  the  harbor  bar  be  moaning." 

"Oh,  Polly,  don't,  please,"  cried  Ruth  and 
Isabel  together.  "It  makes  the  cold  chills  run 
down  your  back." 

"Well,  now,  I  never  feel  that  way  about  it," 


YACHT  CLUB  287 

said  the  Captain,  contentedly.  "Our  times  are 
in  His  hands,  do  you  mind?  Our  times  are  in 
His  hands.  Don't  you  ever  forget  that.  When 
I  was  a  youngster  like  you  girls  and  Tom  here, 
I  used  to  reason  along  those  lines  too,  and  I'd 
be  hoping  I'd  die  this  way  and  that  way,  and  I'd 
be  wishing  for  a  chariot  and  some  angels.  Well, 
now  it  rests  me  to  feel  that  I'm  going  to  tread 
the  same  gangway  as  the  rest,  and  my  Captain 
is  counting  on  me  to  stand  faithful  to  my  articles. 
I've  a  pretty  good  notion  this  dying  business 
isn't  so  troublesome  as  folks  think.  I've  picked 
up  a  good  many  poor  lads  along  the  shore,  and 
not  one  of  them  looked  worried.  Some  were  sort 
of  smiling.  It's  real  comforting,  if  you  look  at 
it  sensibly." 

The  girls  remembered  that  sunset  hour  all  their 
lives.  There  was  nothing  exciting  about  the 
quiet  station,  nor  the  lighthouse  out  on  the  Point, 
although  they  did  find  the  keeper,  Billy  Clewen, 
very  kind.  He  was  a  little  old  man  about  sev- 
enty-four, but  everybody  along  the  shore  called 
him  Billy  Clewen.  One  thing  that  he  told  them 
the  girls  thought  very  pathetic.  He  said  in  bad 
weather  the  sea  birds  would  see  the  light  and 
would  fly  to  it,  and  beat  their  lives  out  against 


288  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

the  heavy  glass,  seeking  shelter  from  a  storm. 

"Were  you  ever  in  danger  out  here,  Mr. 
Clewen?"  asked  Isabel,  whose  mind  always 
drifted  towards  romance. 

"Just  call  me  Billy,  miss,"  answered  the  old 
fellow,  happily,  as  he  followed  them  out  into  the 
neat  garden,  with  its  paling  fence  half  buried  in 
sand.  "I  can't  just  say  as  I  was,  and  I  can't 
just  say  as  I  wasn't,  nuther.  It's  about  ten  years 
ago,  and  my  wife  was  alive.  Her  father  used  to 
be  lighthouse  tender  before  I  come  here,  and  she 
was  born  in  this  house.  And  that  winter  I  come 
down  sick  with  pneumony.  Pretty  bad  sick  I 
was,  too,  pretty  bad  sick.  Sally,  she  had  to  turn 
in  and  trim  the  lamps  and  see  they  was  lighted 
up  on  time,  and  look  after  me  besides,  and  she 
was  sorter  tangled  up  herself  with  sciatic  rheu- 
matiz,  and  if  the  ile  didn't  give  out  on  top  of  it 
all." 

"The  what,  Billy?"  asked  Crullers,  innocently. 

"Ile,  ile,  what  we  put  into  the  lamps.  Any- 
how, I  remembered  it  the  last  thing,  and  told  her 
the  boys  at  the  station  would  help  her.  There 
was  a  nor'wester  a-blowing  round  this  Point  that 
would  have  picked  up  an  ocean  liner,  and  played 
ball  with  it,  and  the  snow  a-banking  up  around 


,YACHT  CLUB  289 

us  like  sand  dunes.  I  didn't  think  Sally  would 
weather  it,  but  she  started  off.  The  fever  had 
me  tight,  but  I  held  my  course  and  when  it  grew 
dark  and  no  Sally,  up  I  gets  out  of  bed,  and 
crept  along  on  my  hands  and  knees  to  the  pas- 
sageway that  leads  to  the  tower,  and  that's  where 
the  Captain  found  me  when  he  came  to  fill  the 
lamps  and  light  'em  up." 

"How  did  he  know?"  asked  Polly,  eagerly. 

"He  knew  I  was  sick,  and  he  was  bringing  me 
over  some  medicine  Mis'  Carey  fixed  up  for  me, 
and  he  found  Sarah  in  a  drift,  halfway  between 
the  Station  and  this  here  fence,  half  froze,  but 
he  had  the  ile,  Lord  bless  your  hearts,  he  had  the 
ile,  and  he  set  the  light  burning." 

"Avast  there,  Billy,"  shouted  the  Captain 
over  his  shoulder.  "Are  you  spinning  that  there 
oil  yarn  to  those  poor  children?" 

"I  am,  Cap,  I  am,"  laughed  Billy.  "And  I'll 
spin  it  to  Saint  Peter  too,  when  I  stop  to  rest  a 
bit  by  the  gates  of  pearl,  if  he'll  give  me  an  ear. 
just  to  let  him  know  you're  coming." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

POLLY    PREPARES 

IT  was  dark  when  the  girls  reached  the  cottage 
on  the  island  that  night.  They  lingered  at  the 
Life  Saving  Station  until  the  Captain  ordered 
them  home,  and  then  Tom  led  the  way  with  a 
lantern  along  the  shore  road.  There  was  no 
moon,  but  the  stars  shone,  and  the  wind  had  gone 
down,  leaving  the  sea  quiet,  except  for  the  long, 
lazy  swells  that  brushed  along  the  ocean  beach 
to  their  left. 

Once  Tom  paused  at  a  rise  in  the  ground  and 
pointed  away  off  to  the  south  side  of  the  Sickle 
where  a  light  twinkled. 

"That's  the  half-way  house,"  he  told  them. 
"They  have  one  every  two  miles  along  shore;  the 
men  meet  there  and  exchange  slips  and  pass  on. 
I'll  be  glad  when  I'm  old  enough  to  join." 

"Say,  Polly,"  exclaimed  Ruth  that  night,  as 
the  girls  sat  around  in  the  living-room,  after  they 
were  undressed,  combing  their  hair,  and  chatting 

290 


•YACHT  CLUB  291 

girl  fashion,  "isn't  it  queer  that  people  who  lead 
lives  of  danger  never  seem  to  think  anything  of 
it  at  all?" 

"You're  never  afraid  of  anything  you  know 
all  about,"  Kate  put  in.  "It's  the  unknown 
danger  that  scares  you." 

"I  mean  firemen,  and  soldiers,  and  life- 
savers — " 

"And  mothers  and  fathers,  and  heroes  gen- 
erally," put  in  Polly,  as  she  sat  on  a  sofa 
cushion,  her  long,  brown  curls  falling  loosely 
around  her,  and  her  pink  kimono  slipped  on  over 
her  night  gown,  for  the  nights  were  always  cool 
on  the  bay.  "I  know  what  you  mean,  Ruth. 
It's  because  they  have  so  much  else  to  think  about 
that  they  haven't  time  to  worry.  Tom's  all 
ready  to  make  a  business  of  being  a  hero,  and 
he  doesn't  realize  it  is  being  a  hero.  He  thinks 
it's  lots  of  fun." 

"Girls,"  called  out  Sue  from  the  table,  where 
she  was  tracing  strange  figures  on  a  sheet  of 
paper,  "does  the  course  cut  around  this  side  of 
Smugglers'  Cove,  or  the  Inlet  side?" 

"Inlet,"  Polly  replied.  "It's  a  straight  line 
due  northeast,  then  east  by  southeast  for  the 
channel." 


292  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Then  we  can  see  it  better  from  our  own  porch 
than  from  the  Orienta." 

"I  know  we  can,  hut  we're  going  over  to  the 
Orienta,  because  grandfather  will  be  there,  we 
hope,  and  we  want  to  be  all  mixed  in  with  the 
really,  truly  yachtsmen." 

"It  won't  matter  the  first  day,  Polly,  because 
that's  for  the  largest  boats.  They  are  to  sail  on 
a  fifteen-mile  course,  Dorothy  says,  out  to  sea, 
then  zigzag  back  to  Tarker's  Light,  and  along 
shore  home.  The  second  day  is  for  thirty-foot- 
ers and  forty-footers,  and  they  take  the  north 
shore  run  for  eight  miles  and  back.  The  third 
day  is  ours,  the  twenty-footers  and  under,  and 
we  are  to  sail  right  here  in  Eagle  Bay,  from  the 
club  to  the  Point,  and  across  the  bay  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Inlet,  then  back  on  the  two-mile  stretch 
to  Fair  Havens." 

"It's  more  than  two  miles  from  the  Inlet  to 
Fair  Havens,"  protested  Crullers. 

"No,  it  isn't,"  said  Polly.  "Nancy  and  I  have 
sailed  it  often.  It's  a  longer  stretch  from  the 
club  house  to  the  Point  by  a  mile,  than  it  is  from 
Fair  Havens  to  the  Inlet,  because  the  Sickle 
runs  away  out  into  the  sea,  don't  you  know." 


COMBING  THEIR  HAIR  AND  CHATTING,  GIRL  FASHION 


YACHT  CLUB  293 

"How  many  of  us  are  going  to  enter  for  the 
Junior  Cup?"  Kate  asked. 

Polly  looked  around  her  at  the  assembled 
group.  Isabel  and  Crullers  preserved  a  digni- 
fied silence.  Ruth  hesitated,  pondering  many 
things.  Only  Sue  and  Ted  and  Kate  said  posi- 
tively that  they  would  enter  the  race  for  twenty- 
footers  and  under;  Sue  with  the  Patsy  D.3  Ted 
with  .the  Hurricane^  and  Kate  with  her  skip- 
jack, the  Witch  Cat" 

"Nancy's  going  to  enter  the  Pirate"  Polly 
said.  "And  I  will  sail  the  Tidy  Jane!  How 
about  you,  Ruth?" 

"Polly,  I  don't  honestly  think  I  had  better  go. 
into  the  race.     I  can't  manage  the  Iris  well 
enough  to  race  her,  and  I'll  be  sure  to  get  into 
somebody's  way  if  they  don't  succeed  in  getting 
into  mine  first." 

"No,  you  won't,  Grandma.  Stop  your  fuss- 
ing," laughed  Polly.  "You  can  sail  a  boat  as 
well  as  any  of  us,  and  it's  lots  of  fun.  Dorothy 
says  we  will  be  the  only  outsiders  in  that  class, 
the  rest  are  Juniors  from  the  Orienta." 

"Boys?"     Ruth's  tone  was  ominous. 

"I  don't  know  whether  they  will  be  boys  or 


294  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

pollywogs,"  said  Polly,  her  eyes  full  of  mischief. 
''Who's  afraid,  anyway?  I'd  just  as  soon  race 
against  boys  as  girls." 

"No  boys  in  the  twenty-footer  class,"  called 
Kate. 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"I  asked  Tom.  The  only  boys'  yacht  club 
around  here  is  the  Pautipaug  Beach  Club,  about 
five  miles  east,  and  they  never  race,  he  says.  All 
they  do  is  fish,  and  camp  out,  and  slosh  around 
shore." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Polly. 

"I  don't  know.  Tom  called  it  that.  He  says 
they  hoist  a  sail,  and  lash  the  tiller,  and  then  go 
to  sleep." 

"Well,  that's  only  one  of  Tom's  yarns,  but 
just  the  same  I  think  that  is  all  most  yacht  clubs 
do,  'slosh  around  shore.' '  Polly's  tone  was  full 
of  fine,  ringing  scorn. 

"But,  Polly,  there  are  five  or  six  girls  from 
the  Orienta  Juniors,  and  we'll  have  to  race 
against  them." 

"All  the  more  fun,"  responded  the  Commodore 
with  true  sportsmanlike  generosity.  "I  do  hope 
that  grandfather  will  come  north  so  he  can  see 
it." 


YACHT  CLUB  295 

"And  watch  us  win,"  added  Sue. 

"Oh,  you  may  laugh,"  persisted  Polly,  hap- 
pily, "but  I  can't  see  why  one  of  us  shouldn't 
win.  We  can  sail  our  boats  every  bit  as  well  as 
Dorothy  and  Bess,  or  any  Orienta  girl.  Nancy 
is  the  only  one  who  can  beat  us,  and  I'd  just  as 
soon  she  did,  if  it  had  to  be  somebody.  It  would 
be  for  the  glory  of  our  club  anyway,  if  she  did. 
Week  after  next,  children,  nine  days,  to  be  ac- 
curate, as  Fraulein  used  to  say,  is  the  event,  and 
we  must  clean  up  our  old  hulls,  and  get  in  line, 
and  practise  along  the  course.  It  means  work, 
every  single  day,  with  our  sleeves  rolled  up." 

"Well,  I  am  not  going  to  race,"  Isabel  said, 
decidedly.  "I  want  to  finish  my  shell  portiere 
before  we  go -home,  and  fix  up  my  collection,  and 
it's  too  hard  work." 

"I'd  like  to  race,  but  I'm  afraid  to,"  Crullers 
put  in,  dubiously.  "Polly,  I  just  can't." 

"Well,  don't  then,"  said  Polly,  cheerfully. 
"You  two  can  be  our  rocking-chair  fleet. 
There's  always  one  in  every  club.  You  may  sit 
up  here  and  enjoy  the  view  with  Aunty  Wel- 
come." 

The  following  days  were  the  busiest  that  Lost 
Island  had  seen  that  summer.  Tom  and  Nancy 


296  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

came  over  every  morning,  after  their  own  work 
was  done,  advising  and  assisting.  Dorothy  and 
Bess  were  enthusiastic  over  the  Junior  event. 
There  were  more  entries  for  it  than  ever  before, 
Commodore  Vaughan  said,  and  they  were  all 
girls.  Every  afternoon  the  graceful  little  "cats" 
and  knockabouts,  yawls  and  skipjacks,  sailed  on 
the  bay,  and  it  looked  as  if  Nancy  and  Dorothy 
had  the  best  showing,  for  theirs  were  the  largest 
boats. 

The  course  was  neither  difficult  nor  dangerous 
in  any  way,  and  providing  the  weather  and  wind 
held  fair,  the  race  was  bound  to  be  a  spirited  one, 
for  it  would  be  a  straight  away  run. 

One  day  they  all  went  over  to  the  Orienta 
Club  to  look  at  the  trophy  the  winner  of  the 
Junior  event  would  bear  away.  It  was  an  exact 
reproduction  of  the  large  Championship  Cup  the 
Orienta  Club  had  held  for  several  years.  The 
cup  stood  about  eight  inches  high,  lined  with 
gold,  and  shaped  like  a  chalice,  the  outer  side 
was  of  richly  chased  silver,  and  engraved. 

"I  like  that  very  much,"  Polly  remarked, 
critically,  as  she  scrutinized  the  workmanship  on 
it.  "Don't  you  remember,  Ruth,  the  summer 
we  went  down  to  Old  Point  Comfort  with  grand' 


YACHT  CLUB  297 

father  and  saw  the  regatta?  I  went  on  the  com- 
mittee boat  that  day,  and  followed  the  race.  But 
the  cup  didn't  look  like  a  cup  at  all.  It  looked 
more  like  a  silver  ice-water  pitcher." 

"Maybe  it  was  a  flagon,"  Kate  said  medita- 
tively. "Did  it  have  a  beak,  and  a  handle?" 

"Two  handles,"  Polly  returned,  "and  a  large 
curved  beak,  and  a  cover  to  it  like  a  syrup  jug. 
And  yet  they  called  it  a  cup." 

"This  one  has  two  handles,  look,  Polly,"  said 
Ted.  "I  like  it  that  way." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Sue.  "I  shall  enjoy  drink- 
ing the  Patsy  D.'s  health  in  it  with  Aunty  Wel- 
come's fruit  lemonade  after  the  race  is  won." 

"Listen  to  her,  Polly.  As  if  her  old  Patsy 
had  any  chance  at  all  against  my  Hurricane." 

Sue  smiled,  and  slipped  her  arm  through 
Ted's. 

"Bide  a  wee,  Edwina,"  she  laughed.  "I'll  let 
you  drink  out  of  it  first  of  all." 

The  day  before  the  regatta  was  an  exciting  one 
on  Eagle  Bay.  Sometime  the  night  before  the 
Adventure  dropped  anchor,  and  the  first  object 
the  girls  beheld  the  following  morning  was  the 
slender,  low  yacht,  with  her  great  uplift  of 
spars  and  white-clad  sailors  running  about  the 
deck. 


298  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"She's  won  ever  so  many  cups,"  Dorothy  said, 
as  they  watched  her  through  opera  glasses,  which 
Polly  had  thought  to  slip  in  with  her  equipment. 
"They  stand  all  in  a  long  row  on  her  cabin 
sideboard.  And  she's  worth  over  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  When  I  told  papa  I  thought  that  was 
too  much  to  pay  for  a  yacht,  he  laughed  at  me 
and  said  some  steam  yachts  cost  as  much  as  that 
just  to  keep  traveling  for  a  year." 

"There  comes  another  one  around  the  Point," 
called  Ted.  "That's  a  yawl,  isn't  it?" 

"Auxiliary  yawl,"  corrected  Dorothy.  "How 
queer  her  sails  look  from  here,  the  big  mainsail, 
and  topsail,  and  the  jib,  and  then  that  funny 
spread  down  near  the  end.  Makes  me  think  of  a 
cat  and  her  kitten.  But  wait  till  the  sloops  ar- 
rive. I  like  them  the  best.  They  are  so  stately 
and  slender,  and  when  they  sail  under  full  canvas 
they  dip  to  the  wind  like  gulls." 

Polly  had  hesitated  over  putting  fresh  coats  of 
paint  on  the  Tidy  Jane,  and  the  Iris.  The 
other  boats  were  in  fairly  good  order,  for  Tom 
and  his  father  had  re-painted  them  early  in  the 
spring  for  the  Holmes  boys.  But  that  final 
week  before  the  event,  Polly  painted  and  caulked 


YACHT  CLUB  299 

seams,  and  overhauled  with  an  energy  and  vim 
that  made  even  Tom  remonstrate. 

"Now  you  mind  what  I  tell  you,  it  won't  make 
them  go  a  bit  faster,  not  a  bit,"  he  grumbled, 
when  Polly  coaxed  him  to  help  them  fix  a  dry 
dock. 

"Oh,  but  Tom,  they'll  look  so  handsome," 
pleaded  Polly.  "I'm  going  to  run  a  beautiful 
dark  blue  belt  ribbon  of  paint  around  the  Tidy 
Jane.,  and  then,  under  strained  circumstances— 

"Now,  see  here,"  Tom  crawled  laboriously  out 
from  under  the  Jane,  a  paint  pot  in  one  hand 
and  a  brush  in  the  other,  "you  can  strain  all  the 
circumstances  you  want,  but  she  won't  go  a  bit 
faster." 

The  girls  broke  into  a  peal  of  laughter  at  him, 
but  Tom  stolidly  refused  to  see  anything  funny 
in  the  whole  proceeding  and  went  on  painting 
reluctantly. 

But  it  paid,  even  the  Captain  said  so  the  last 
day,  when  he  came  over  on  a  tour  of  inspection, 
and  approved  of  the  Polly  Page  Club's  racers, 
clean  and  trim  as  paint  and  polish  could  make 
them. 

"Aren't     they     handsome?"     asked     Polly, 


300  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

proudly,  as  she  stood  beside  him  on  the  landing, 
and  surveyed  the  fleet. 

"Fine  and  dandy,"  echoed  the  Captain,  heart- 
ily. "If  they  act  as  saucy  as  they  look,  there 
won't  be  a  running  chance  for  any  other  boat  on 
the  bay.  You  want  to  look  out  for  the  Jane, 
mind.  Don't  give  her  her  head.  She's  a  smart 
one,  now,  I  tell  you.  I  never  let  her  find  out  she 
could  get  the  best  of  me,  but  she  was  always 
a-trying.  Make  her  feel  your  hand  steady  on 
the  tiller,  every  minute,  or  she'll  bolt  like  a  wild 
thing.  And  when  she  takes  a  notion  to  tilt  on 
her  beam  end  in  a  good  puff  of  wind,  why,  let 
her  tilt.  She  can't  do  a  mite  of  harm,  not  a  mite. 
I've  had  her  out  when  the  seas  would  skip  clean 
over  her,  and  half  fill  the  cockpit,  and  she'd  tilt 
till  she'd  lift  her  centerboard  out  of  the  water. 
Yes,  ma'am.  And  what  did  I  do?  Just  patted 
her  down  easy,  and  let  her  drift  off  a  bit  to  lee- 
ward till  the  wind  spilled  out  of  her  sail,  and 
when  she  came  about  again,  she'd  right  herself 
like  a  lady  and  walk  on." 

Polly  nodded  comprehendingly. 

"I  know  how  she  acts,"  she  said.  "And  that's 
just  the  way  I  feel  about  her,  too,  Captain  Carey, 


YACHT  CLUB  301 

as  if  she  were  alive,  and  could  almost  understand 
what  I  say  to  her." 

"Well,  it's  something  plain  humans  can't  know 
about,"  the  Captain  answered,  in  his  slow,  rest- 
ful, philosophic  way.  "Every  boat  on  the  face 
of  the  waters  has  got  just  as  much  personality 
as  you  or  I,  and  they've  got  dispositions  too. 
I've  shipped  before  now  on  vessels  that  you 
couldn't  make  behave  themselves  any  more'n  you 
could  harness  up  a  porpoise  to  a  plough.  Then 
I've  shipped  on  bashful,  nervous  creeturs  of 
boats,  that  would  dance  and  shiver  their  timbers 
from  one  beam  end  to  another,  for  all  the  world 
like  some  old  woman.  There  was  a  three-master 
out  of  Martha's  Vineyard  when  I  was  a  lad. 
She  carried  various  articles  of  trade  along  the 
west  coast  of  Africa,  and  she  was  the  skeeriest 
thing  I  ever  sailed  on.  She  had  her  favorites 
among  the  crew  too,  mind  you.  I've  seen  her 
fairly  tremble  and  waver  when  the  pilot  for  the 
day  would  take  hold  of  her.  He  was  a  big,  slow 
chap  from  a  place  called  Noank  down  on  the 
Connecticut  shore.  Name  was  Shad  Hardy,  and 
it  suited  him.  He  had  the  identical  expression 
of  a  shad.  I  was  on  night  duty  then  at  the 


302  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

wheel,  and  the  minute  she'd  feel  my  hand  on  the 
spokes,  she  was  like  a  lamb.  I'd  speak  to  her, 
and  steady  her  up  a  bit,  and  she'd  march  along 
in  the  wind,  like  a  grenadier  to  band  music.  I 
always  did  say  it  wa'n't  no  use  trying  to  make  a 
ship  like  you,  when  it  had  made  up  its  mind  it 
wouldn't.  They're  the  notioniest  things  alive, 
'cepting  females,  and  I  sometimes  think  that's 
why  some  discerning  seaman  called  a  boat  'she' 
and  set  public  opinion  that  way." 

"Oh,  Captain,  when  you  know  how  nice  we  are, 
and  how  we  mind  you,"  rebuked  Polly.  "Just 
wait  till  to-morrow." 

"The  Junior  race  won't  come  off  till  the  third 
day  Tom  tells  me,"  the  Captain  answered. 
"And  that  makes  me  think."  He  dipped  into 
his  jacket  pocket,  and  pulled  forth  neat  rolls 
of  twine  and  lines,  a  pouch  of  tobacco,  and  some 
keys.  "They 'just  gave  me  a  telegram  for  you 
over  at  the  hotel.  Here  'tis.  No,  'tain't. 
Avast  there,  maybe  its  down  below.  Nancy  and 
mother  told  me  not  to  give  it  to  you  sudden,  for 
fear  it  might  be  bad  news." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  it  is,"  Polly  said,  hopefully. 
She  never  went  out  and  opened  the  gate  for 
trouble,  not  Polly. 


YACHT  CLUB  303 

The  Captain  drew  forth  the  yellow  envelope 
gingerly. 

"I  wouldn't  open  it  in  too  big  a  hurry,  any- 
way," he  warned.  "Better  take  such  matters 
pretty  easy.  I'm  suspicious  of  the  pesky  things 
every  time  I  see  one.  I  never  got  one  yet  that 
told  me  any  good  news.  It  always  plumps  you 
full  of  bad  surprises,  all  to  once." 

"Well,  this  is  good  news,"  Polly  cried,  as  she 
glanced  over  the  sheet  of  paper.  "It's  from 
grandfather,  and  he'll  be  here  to-morrow,  and 
stay  for  regatta  week,  then  take  us  home  with 
him!  Let's  see,  from  the  fifteenth  to  the  twenty- 
second  is  the  regatta,  then  allowing  four  days 
down  the  coast  we'll  get  to  Queen's  Ferry  just 
in  time  to  rest  up  before  school  opens." 

The  Captain's  eyes  twinkled  under  their  bushy 
brows. 

"I  shall  have  to  hand  in  a  true  and  faithful 
report  if  the  Admiral  asks  me  for  one,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  but  we've  been  good,  haven't  we,  Cap- 
tain Carey?" 

"Fair  to  middlin',  fair  to  middlin',"  laughed 
the  old  sailor,  as  he  started  down  the  beach,  and 
Polly  ran  up  to  the  house  to  break  the  news  to 
the  other  girls. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  EEGATTA 

THERE  was  an  air  of  excitement  and  activity 
about  Eagle  Bay  the  following  morning.  All 
summer  long  it  had  been  a  quiet  inlet  of  the  great 
Atlantic.  When  the  long  breakers  would  come 
surging  in  on  the  south  shore  of  the  Sickle,  half 
a  mile  over  on  its  north  shore  there  would  hardly 
be  a  ripple  on  the  bay.  Up  at  the  east  end  of 
course,  near  the  Point,  the  heavy  seas  would 
come  racing  through  the  channel,  but  before  they 
had  gone  far,  the  bay  had  caught  them  and 
soothed  them,  and  all  their  fury  died  away  in  her 
placid  arms. 

But  when  the  sun  rose  on  the  fifteenth  of 
August,  all  along  the  bay  there  was  a  holiday 
look  to  things.  The  weather  was  splendid,  not 
too  warm  nor  too  windy,  but  just  right,  the  girls 
declared,  as  they  all  trouped  out  on  the  porch 
before  breakfast,  with  various  "envelopes" 
around  them,  as  Crullers  expressed  it,  to  take  a 

304 


YACHT  CLUB  305 

look  at  the  scene.  The  hotel  flaunted  flags  wher- 
ever a  flag  could  be  placed  to  advantage,  and  all 
along  the  beach,  the  cottages  had  out  bunting  and 
flags  too.  At  the  landing  at  Fair  Havens,  one 
huge  flag  was  unfurled  with  dignity  to  the  morn- 
ing breeze. 

"Oh,  dear,  I  wish  we  had  thought  to  buy  a  lot 
of  flags  too,"  cried  Isabel. 

"There's  a  whole  week  of  it,"  Polly  answered. 
"We  can  buy  them  to-day  over  in  the  village. 
Don't  worry  over  anything  at  all,  girls.  Let's 
be  just  as  happy  as  we  can  while  it  lasts." 

Twelve  large  yachts  they  counted,  besides  sev- 
eral steam  launches,  motor  boats,  and  smaller 
sailing  craft.  From  the  rigging  of  every  one  of 
them  fluttered  gay  strings  of  small  flags,  and 
Polly  finally  ran  down  to  their  own  flag  pole  and 
raised  the  blue  and  gold  pennant  of  which  the 
girls  were  so  proud. 

''Before  the  week  is  over,  girls,"  cried  Kate, 
waving  her  towel  at  it  joyously,  as  she  came  out 
on  the  porch  after  her  bath,  clad  in  her  bath- 
robe, "every  boat  on  the  bay  will  know  and  re- 
spect that  flag." 

The  Commodore  had  sent  over  a  cordial  invita- 
tion for  them  to  be  the  guests  of  the  Orienta 


306  ,THE  POLLY  PAGE 

whenever  they  felt  like  it  during  regatta  week. 
Polly  hardly  knew  what  to  say  about  it.  The 
best  view  of  the  course  could  be  had  from  Lost 
Island,  but  the  girls  wanted  to  go  to  the  big  club 
house  and  "strut,"  as  Sue  said. 

"You're  a  lot  of  vain  blue  jays,"  Polly  de- 
clared laughingly.  "All  you  want  to  do  is  dress 
up  in  your  best  yachting  suits,  and  go  over  there 
and  be  petted.  I  know  you  all." 

"Oh,  Polly,  come  on.  We  haven't  been  petted 
much  this  summer,  have  we?"  pleaded  Ted. 
"We've  stayed  right  here  and  worked  like  able 
seamen,  you  know  we  have.  Mayn't  we  tie  on 
our  best  hair  ribbons  now  and  go  and  eat  ice 
cream,  please?" 

"Please,  Commodore,"  echoed  Kate  and  Ruth, 
laughingly,  and  the  Commodore  finally  agreed. 

"I  think  we'd  better  start  by  half -past  eight, 
girls,"  she  said,  as  she  sat  in  the  hammock  and  de- 
liberately brushed  out  her  brown  curls. 

"Say,  Polly,  suppose  somebody  over  on  the 
yachts  had  field  glasses,  and  could  see  you?" 
questioned  Isabel. 

"See  me?  Look  at  Kate  clad  in  a  bath  robe 
of  bright  blue  Turkish  toweling.  Look  at  Crul- 
lers with  a  red  shawl  draped  artistically  over  her 


YACHT  CLUB  307 

nightgown.  I  move  we  all  adjourn  out  of 
sight." 

Aunty  Welcome's  turbaned  head  appeared  at 
the  kitchen  door,  as  they  all  trooped  back  into  the 
living-room. 

"Has  you  all  been  out  on  dat  porch  in  your 
nightgowns?"  she  asked,  ominously.  "Well,  I 
did  think  I  might  make  a  Spanish  omelet  for 
breakfast,  but  now  you  don't  get  it." 

"Oh,  please,  darling,  precious  Aunty — "  began 
Polly,  who  loved  Spanjsh  omelet,  but  Welcome 
held  firmly  to  her  point. 

"No,  ma'am.  It's  de  only  power  I  got  over 
you  all,  and  if  you  don't  behave,  I  won't  cook 
nice  things  for  you.  Oatmeal  and  boiled  eggs 
is  what  you'll  get." 

"Let's  hurry  and  dress,  girls,  and  maybe  she 
will."  Polly  curled  her  hair  over  her  finger 
quickly,  and  tied  the  cluster  with  a  soft  satin  rib- 
bon. "Grandfather  arrives  at  Eastport  on  the 
nine  forty-five  train  from  Portland,  and  I  want 
to  be  there  to  meet  him.  So  I  think  you  girls 
can  all  go  up  on  the  Orienta  veranda  and  watch 
the  start,  and  we  can  join  you  there." 

"There  won't  be  any  start  before  noon,"  Kate 
answered.  "Why  can't  we  all  meet  the  Admiral 


308  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

at  Eastport  and  let  everybody  else  know  we  are 
meeting  him.  It's  an  event  for  a  little  place  like 
Eastport  to  catch  a  real  Rear- Admiral  even  if  he 
is  on  the  retired  list,  and  we  must  let  the  town 
know  its  honor.  Let's  all  carry  blue  and  gold 
flags,  and  dress  up  in  our  best,  and  salute  him  in 
state  when  the  train  pulls  in." 

Polly  enjoyed  the  plan,  and  they  hurried  with 
their  dressing,  then  walked  out  sedately  into  the 
little  room  that  served  as  a  dining-room.  Wel- 
come's face  was  immobile  and  unrelenting,  but 
on  the  table  there  were  neither  boiled  eggs  nor 
oatmeal.  Crullers  saw,  and  gave  one  glad  cry. 

"Girls,  waffles!" 

Now  waffles  are  usually  merely  an  adjunct  to 
a  full  meal,  but  not  Welcome's  waffles.  There 
wras  no  room  for  other  food.  The  girls  ate 
waffles  with  butter  and  sugar  on  them,  and  then 
waffles  with  honey  on  them,  then  Polly  tried  some 
maple  syrup,  and  Sue  hunted  up  the  strawberry 
jam  jar,  and  Ruth  appeared  with  some  marma- 
lade. 

'  'Deed,  an'  I  nevah  see  sech  appetites,"  Wel- 
come declared,  her  indignation  forgotten,  as  she 
stood  over  the  cookstove,  and  guarded  the  waffle 
iron,  her  old  face  smiling  broadly.  "Dat's  jest 


YACHT  CLUB  309 

sixty-nine  I  done  cooked  dis  yere  morning  for 
you  all,  and  I  don't  see  whar  you  puts  'em,  chil- 
lern." 

"It's  your  own  fault,  Aunty,"  Polly  declared. 
"You  make  them  so  light  and  nice,  that  when  we 
eat  them,  they  just  evaporate." 

"Listen  to  her  get  'round  her  mammy,"  Wel- 
come's fat  sides  shook  with  laughter,  as  she  ladled 
out  more.  "Hyar  goes  seventy-one." 

Tom  had  agreed  to  drive  over  after  them  in 
the  carry-all.  Polly's  orders  had  gone  forth, 
and  not  a  single  boat  was  to  be  taken  out  on  the 
bay  until  the  Junior  race.  She  wanted  them 
spick  and  span  for  the  event  of  the  regatta,  and 
even  Dorothy  and  Bess's  boat,  the  Nixie,,  looked 
weatherbeaten  beside  the  newly  painted  chal- 
lengers of  the  Junior  Cup. 

"Who  are  the  judges,  Kate?"  asked  Ted,  as 
they  drove  along  the  shore  road  towards  town. 
It  had  been  a  matter  for  calculation  to  get  seven 
girls  into  the  carry-all  besides  the  driver,  but 
some  way  it  had  happened.  There  was  room  for 
four  people,  and  under  pressure,  five,  but  when 
they  picked  up  Nancy  too,  down  at  Fair  Havens, 
there  were  nine  aboard,  and  the  colts  moderated 
their  pace.  Tom's  special  pride  in  life,  next  to 


310  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

his  hope  of  being  a  life  saver,  was  the  colts. 
Sorrels  they  were,  and  almost  a  perfect  match  to 
Ted's  red  curls.  The  Captain  had  owned  them 
twelve  years,  and  they  had  grown  up  with  the 
children,  so  they  still  called  them  the  "colts." 
And  they  had  traveled  that  shore  road  so  often 
during  those  twelve  years  that  the  Captain  de- 
clared he  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  to  see  them 
walk  out  of  their  stalls,  harness  each  other  up, 
and  start  off  alone  at  any  time.  As  the  two 
trotted  along  the  shore  road  together,  they  scat- 
tered a  cloud  of  dust  behind,  and  their  short 
manes  caught  the  breeze  like  a  t'gallant  peak 
flag,  Tom  said. 

It  was  the  first  time  the  girls  had  all  been  to 
Eastport  since  their  arrival  at  Eagle  Bay.  It 
lay  about  two  miles  from  the  club  house  on 
Orienta  Point,  and  a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the 
Inlet.  A  big  lumber  mill  off  to  one  end  of  town 
hummed  its  song  lazily.  You  could  tell  just 
what  the  saw  was  doing  from  the  tone,  Sue  said. 
First  the  sharp  hiss  as  it  cut  the  bark,  then  a 
gradually  rising  buzz  and  hum,  till  there  came 
the  crack  as  it  fell  apart.  Off  to  the  other  side 
of  the  village  lay  the  railroad  station.  There 
were  half  a  dozen  buildings  around  the  central 


YACHT  CLUB  311 

square  of  green,  some  low  white  houses,  with 
their  green  blinds  tightly  closed,  and  little  gar- 
den patches  out  in  front  filled  with  sweet-scented 
old-fashioned  flowers. 

"I  was  born  over  yonder,"  Tom  told  them, 
pointing  his  whip  at  a  little  house  next  the  white 
church  that  occupied  the  north  end  of  the  green. 
"So  was  Pa,  and  his  Pa  too,  but  now  my  Aunt 
Cynthy  Bardwell  lives  there.  She's  got  the 
finest  rose  garden  in  Eastport,  and  all  the  sum- 
mer folks  come  down  here  to  buy  her  roses. 
She's  Pa's  only  sister,  and  her  husband  was  a 
captain  too,  sailed  a  schooner  up  to  the  Gulf 
every  year  for  over  forty  years,  and  fell  off  the 
dock  down  here  one  day  loading  ties." 

"Doing  what,  Tom?"  asked  Polly,  anxiously, 
as  they  stopped. 

"Loading  railroad  ties  from  the  saw  mill  yon- 
der, to  carry  south.  He  was  just  visiting  around 
the  docks  and  saw  a  tie  slip  into  the  river,  and 
it  knocked  off  a  little  chap  with  it,  Dicky  But- 
ton, it  was,  and  Uncle  Bardwell  went  in  after 
him,  and  just  then  a  boat  come  along,  and  her 
swell  swashed  the  schooner  up  against  the  dock, 
and  when  they  got  him  out  he  was  dead,  but 
Dicky's  alive." 


312  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

The  girls  listened  and  made  up  their  minds 
they  wanted  to  see  the  rose  garden  then  and 
there.  It  was  only  nine,  Polly  said,  and  the 
train  couldn't  possibly  get  through  the  village 
without  everybody  knowing  it  was  there.  So 
Tom  tied  the  colts  to  the  hitching  post,  and  they 
went  in  to  call  on  Mrs.  Cynthy  Bardwell. 

Ruth  started  to  walk  up  the  front  path,  but 
Tom  told  her  they  had  better  go  around  to  the 
back  door,  so  they  followed  him  obediently  along 
the  graveled  path,  bordered  neatly  with  clam 
shells  turned  face  downward  in  the  mould. 
Then  came  "old  hen  and  chickens,"  as  Kate 
called  them,  mignonette,  sweet  alyssium,  mari- 
golds, and  pansies.  And  in  the  center  of  each 
bed  there  rose  up  stocks,  pink  and  white,  and  so 
fragrant  and  lovable,  that  the  girls  begged  for 
some  at  once. 

"Well,  I  do  declare!"  exclaimed  a  sweet, 
friendly  voice  so  near  to  them  they  nearly 
jumped.  "I'm  right  here  at  the  buttery  win- 
dow, girls,  and  I  saw  you  and  Tom  coming. 
Wait  a  minute  till  I  change  my  apron." 

"It  gave  me  quite  a  turn  to  see  such  a  lot  of 
youngsters  in  my  garden  so  early,"  she  told 
them,  when  she  appeared,  tying  the  strings  of 


YACHT  CLUB  313 

her  apron  as  she  talked.  "Come  and  see  my 
roses." 

It  seemed  as  if  nothing  but  roses  grew  in  that 
long  back  garden,  shaded  with  horse  chestnut 
trees,  excepting  the  tall  lilac  bushes  along  the 
fence  and  the  lilies  of  the  valley  that  grew 
thickly  on  the  ground  beneath  them. 

"They've  gone  by  long  ago,"  Mrs.  Bardwell 
said,  "but  they're  real  sweet  in  the  spring." 

On  the  white  and  green  trellis  work  above  the 
kitchen  portico,  a  crimson  rambler  climbed  stur- 
dily to  the  "ell"  roof.  A  sweetbrier  hung  over 
the  gate,  with  little  white  roses  nearly  gone. 
Then  there  were  bushes  of  old-fashioned  blush 
roses,  so  delicately  pink  and  sweet  that  Polly  de- 
clared all  she  could  think  of  was  her  grand- 
mother's wedding  chest  at  home,  with  its  flat  silk 
bags  of  dried  rose  leaves,  still  heavy  with  fra- 
grance from  roses  that  had  bloomed  half  a  cen- 

O 

tury  ago. 

"Yes,  they're  sweet,  but  I  have  a  leaning  to- 
wards the  white  brides,"  said  Mrs.  Bardwell, 
moving  from  bush  to  bush  like  a  white  bride  her- 
self, with  her  silver  white  curls,  pink  cheeks,  and 
fresh  white  apron.  "And  the  bees  love  them 
best  too.  They're  all  gone  by,  now.  I  can  gen- 


314  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

erally  count  on  them  along  in  June.  The  crim- 
son rambler's  real  hardy,  but  it's  beginning  now 
to  shake  its  petals.  I  suppose  you  folks  down 
south  have  roses  so  much  you  hardly  appreciate 
them,  but  we  love  them.  Summer's  kind  of 
late  up  here,  and  I've  had  roses  for  my  table 
clear  to  the  end  of  August.  These  here  were 
American  Beauties.  I  never  tried  them  before 
this  year,  but  a  man  come  along  last  fall  and 
sorter  talked  me  into  taking  them,  and  they  did 
bloom  up  real  sightly,  but  terrible  thorny.  This 
bush  I  raised  from  a  slip  my  mother  gave  me 
the  day  I  was  married.  It's  a  cabbage  rose. 
'Tain't  a  pretty  name,  but  I  love  the  bush,  and 
the  flower  too.  It  looks  more  like  a  lot  of  little 
rosebuds  all  clustered  together  than  just  one 
flower,  don't  it?  There's  moss  roses  down  in 
that  corner  by  the  fence,  but  they  went  by  last 
month  too.  These  here,  they  call  them  Gloriana 
Wonders.  I  always  feel  like  shaking  them 
same  as  you  would  a  child  that  won't  behave. 
They  bloom  all  to  once,  and  just  open  up  their 
whole  hearts  in  9-  day,  and  the  wind  blows  them 
to  Halifax."  She  laughed  happily,  touching 
the  leaves  with  tender,  lingering  fingers  as  you 
would  the  flushed  cheek  of  a  baby;.  "I  suppose 


YACHT  CLUB  315 

I'm  foolish  over  them,  but  they're  all  I've  got 
to  love  and  care  for  now.  I  used  to  have  five 
babies  of  my  own,  and  they're  all  lying  over 
yonder  around  their  father,  the  Captain,  in  the 
little  cemetery  across  from  the  lighthouse,  on  the 
east  shore." 

"We  haven't  been  there  yet,"  Polly  said,  her 
dark  eyes  full  of  sympathy,  as  she  held  the  flow- 
ers that  Aunt  Cynthy  clipped  steadily  while  she 
talked. 

"Haven't  you?  It's  real  int'restin',"  an- 
swered the  old  lady  cheerily.  "I  like  it  better, 
somehow,  than  the  new  one  down  by  the  church. 
That  was  built  recently,  thirty  years  ago,  wasn't 
it,  Tom?  The  old  one  goes  back  long  before 
that,  and  I  want  to  lie  there,  even  if  the  graves 
be  half  sunken,  and  some  of  the  stones  lop-sided. 
I  guess  they  sleep  the  long  sleep  just  as  well.  I 
had  father  and  the  children  buried  sorter  oppo- 
site from  the  way  other  folks  do.  I  didn't  p'int 
them  to  the  east  and  the  sunrise.  I  p'inted  them 
due  west,  so  they  can  look  straight  out  over  the 
bay  from  the  east  shore  of  the  channel.  I  know 
that's  the  way  they  would  have  liked  it  best. 
These  here  tea  roses  are  real  sweet  and  friendly, 
don't  you  think  so?  and  lasting,  too." 


316  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

"I  think  the  whole  garden  is  lovely,"  cried 
Polly.  "I  just  wish  I  could  reach  out  and  hug 
them  all.  Seems  as  if  I  never  saw  such  a  gar- 
den before." 

"Well,  flowers  are  like  children  and  friends. 
Give  'em  love  and  care,  and  plenty  of  fresh 
water,  and  they'll  love  you  back  a  hundred-fold. 
Stop  in  any  time,  girls.  Tom  and  Nancy  are 
over  every  day  or  so,  and  they  always  come  to 
see  me.  I  was  born  to  mother  something,  and 
as  long  as  the  dear  Lord  saw  fit  to  gather  my 
babies  in  his  arms,  I  have  to  mother  the  roses, 
and  all  the  other  babies,  little  and  big,  that  come 
to  my  garden,  don't  you  see?" 

"Isn't  she  a  darling?"  exclaimed  Ruth,  when 
they  finally  left  the  little  white  cottage,  and 
started  over  to  the  depot.  Polly  had  coaxed 
and  coaxed  until  she  had  prevailed,  and  Mrs. 
Bard  well  had  promised  to  go  back  with  them  to 
watch  the  races.  The  carry-all  and  its  capacity 
had  been  argued  over,  until  Polly  said  the  Ad- 
miral could  get  one  of  the  village  teams  and  take 
Kate  and  Ruth  with  him. 

Polly  buried  her  nose  in  her  bouquet,  and  just 
smiled  and  sighed  all  at  once. 


YACHT  CLUB  317 

"I'm  too  full  for  utterance,  as  Crullers  says 
after  dinner,"  she  laughed.  "But  there's  one 
thing  certain.  I  am  coming  back  to  that  white 
cottage  again.  Wait  till  we  see  Aunty  Wel- 
come's face  when  she  smells  these  late  roses. 
She  was  saying  only  yesterday  that  the  only 
thing  she  was  homesick  for  were  the  roses  at 
Glenwood.  Listen.  Oh,  girls,  there's  the  train 
whistle!" 

She  forgot  everything  except  the  dear  grand- 
father who  was  on  that  train,  and  before  the  rest 
could  catch  up  with  her,  she  started  on  a  run  to- 
wards the  little  red  station.  It  was  an  excursion 
train  from  Portland,  one  that  connected  with  the 
southern  expresses  and  came  up  to  Eastport  in 
honor  of  the  regatta.  Polly  stood  up  on  a 
wooden  box  near  the  express  office,  and  watched 
the  outpouring  of  the  crowds,  men,  women,  and 
children,  all  bearing  lunch  boxes,  and  all  dressed 
in  holiday  and  outing  clothes.  But  she  could 
not  see  the  Admiral  anywhere.  Finally,  some- 
body put  an  arm  around  her  very  quietly,  and 
she  turned  to  find  the  Admiral  smiling  down  on 
her. 

"Oh,  you  dear,  you  precious  old  dear,"  cried 


318  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Polly,  as  she  nearly  strangled  him  with  her 
strong,  young  embrace.  "I  never  even  saw  you 
leave  the  train  and  I  watched  everyone." 

"Didn't  you  see  me  riding  on  the  engine  so 
I'd  be  the  first  one  off?"  the  Admiral  asked,  teas- 
ingly,  as  he  pinched  her  cheek.  "I  was  up  for- 
ward in  the  smoker,  mate.  Where  did  you  col- 
lect those  freckles?  Where  are  all  the  other 
girls?" 

"Here  we  are,  sir,"  Sue  exclaimed,  as  they 
came  up,  breathlessly.  "Polly  wouldn't  wait  for 
us.  She  wanted  to  meet  you  first  of  all,  so  we 
let  her." 

"Let  me?"  repeated  Polly,  but  the  girls 
wouldn't  allow  her  to  finish. 

"You  don't  know  how  she  orders  us  around," 
Ruth  added. 

"Does  she?"  The  Admiral  leaned  back  his 
head,  and  laughed  in  his  deep,  hearty  fashion. 
"And  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  do  a  thing  about  it. 
She's  the  Commodore,  you  understand,  and  if  I 
had  my  choice  between  a  kingship  and  a  commo- 
dore's berth,  for  real  sovereignty,  I'd  choose  the 
berth.  Where's  the  Doctor?" 

The  girls  caught  their  breath,  and  their  eyes 
fairly  shone  with  interest  and  subdued  excite- 


YACHT  CLUB  319 

merit.  Polly  laid  her  hands  on  the  Admiral's 
shoulders. 

"Grandfather  dear,"  she  exclaimed,  solemnly, 
"do  you  know  him?" 

"Oh,  but  he's  a  smuggler,"  added  Ted,  mis- 
chievously. "He's  just  disguised  as  a  doctor  of 
something." 

"And  he's  addicted  to  orange  marmalade 
something  terrible,  Aunty  Welcome  says,"  Kate 
put  in. 

"But  he's  got  the  finest  Chili  sauce  over  in  the 
cave  you  ever  tasted,  grandfather,"  Polly  con- 
cluded. 

"Now,  wait  one  moment,  and  let  me  catch  my 
breath."  The  Admiral  put  out  his  hands  to  de- 
fend himself,  as  the  girls  all  clustered  around 
him,  each  one  eager  to  tell  about  the  mystery  of 
Smugglers'  Isle.  "I  mean  Penrhyn  Parmelee 
Smith  of  Washington,  D.  C." 

"So  do  we,"  came  a  united  and  positive  chorus, 
"Washington,  D.  C.,  and  Eagle  Bay.  He  lives 
right  next  door  to  us  in  a  cave  on  an  island." 

"God  bless  my  heart  and  soul,"  exclaimed  the 
Admiral,  and  he  took  off  his  glasses  to  wipe 
them,  as  he  always  did  when  he  was  startled. 
"I  am  sure  I  have  never  been  surprised  but  twice 


320 

in  twenty  years.  Once  when  Welcome  marched 
forcibly  into  my  study  and  placed  this  person 
with  the  freckles  in  my  arms,  and  again  to-day. 
And  yet  it  may  be  true.  It  is  quite  like  Pen- 
rhyn  to  do  such  a  thing.  For  a  man  in  his  sixty- 
sixth  year  he  is  the  most  irresponsible,  child-like 
creature  I  ever  knew.  Polly,  did  you  say  orange 
marmalade?" 

Polly  nodded  her  head  emphatically. 

"He's  had  six  jars  out  of  the  ten  we  brought 
with  us,"  she  replied,  solemnly.  "Aunty  de- 
clares it  can't  hurt  him  one  bit,  but  we  don't  be- 
lieve he  eats  it  himself.  We  think  he  uses  it  as 
bait  to  catch — what  is  it,  girls?" 

"Polypi,"  supplemented  Ruth.     "Polypi." 

More  than  one  in  the  holiday  crowd  turned  at 
the  hearty  laugh  that  broke  from  the  group 
around  the  stately  old  Admiral.  And  suddenly 
the  girls  saw  a  figure  approaching,  whose  wrhite 
suit  of  flannel  and  white  yachting  cap,  they  rec- 
ognized at  once. 

"Admiral,"  the  Doctor  fairly  beamed  as  he 
put  out  his  hand.  "I  salute  you."  He  smiled 
his  slow,  dry  smile  that  only  drew  down  the  cor- 
ners of  his  mouth,  and  stretched  his  dimples 


YACHT  CLUB  321 

more,  Polly  declared.  The  Admiral  gripped  his 
hand  warmly. 

"Polly,  my  dear,  we  went  to  college  together," 
he  exclaimed.  "Didn't  we,  Penny?  Some  day 
when  you  girls  meet  one  another,  and  have 
grandchildren  beside  you,  perhaps  you'll  look 
back  and  understand  how  we  two  old  fellows  feel 
this  minute;  eh,  Doctor?  I  think  if  I  took  a 
deep  breath  I  could  give  the  grand  old  yell  yet." 

"Don't,"  cautioned  the  Doctor.  "It  won't  do 
in  Eastport.  Polly  would  hand  us  over  to  the 
authorities  without  a  qualm.  You  don't  know 
how  she  rules  us." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do,"  said  the  Admiral,  merrily. 
"I've  heard  reports  of  it  already." 

The  Doctor's  eyebrows  lifted. 

"Marmalade?"  he  queried,  as  he  took  Polly  by 
one  arm,  and  guided  her  deftly  through  the 
crowd,  the  rest  following.  "I  have  to  eat  it,  to 
keep  in  their  good  graces." 

"You  shall  not  have  another  jar  after  that," 
Polly  cried,  severely.  "Wait  till  I  tell  Aunty 
Welcome.  Where's  Tom  with  our  carry-all? 
Oh,  I  see  him,  over  under  the  horse  chestnuts  at 
Aunt  Cynthy's." 


322  iTHE  POLLY  PAGE 

"Aunt  Cynthy,  Polly?"  asked  the  Admiral. 
"Who  is  the  lady?" 

"She's  the  mother  of  the  roses,"  Polly  told 
him,  mysteriously,  as  she  raised  her  bouquet  for 
him  to  catch  a  whiff  of  its  fragrance.  "Tom's 
aunt.  And  she's  going  back  to  the  Orienta  with 
us  to  watch  the  races.  Now,  the  carry-all  won't 
carry  all,  at  all.  It  will  just  about  carry  seven 
people." 

"I  have  a  conveyance  here  some  place,"  spoke 
up  the  Doctor.  "At  least  I  did  have.  I  can 
take  two  with  me.  Wait  just  one  minute." 

He  disappeared  around  the  corner,  and  came 
back  driving  a  trim  top  carriage. 

"It's  the  hotel  keeper's,"  he  told  them.  "I 
didn't  know  these  children  were  coming  to  meet 
you  in  state,  so  I  plotted  to  carry  you  off  myself. 
Now,  I  think  I  had  best  take  Mrs.  Bardwell  with 
me,  and  the  thinnest  one  of  the  girls." 

"Thinnest!"  exclaimed  Sue.  "Thinnest! 
You  won't  find  any  thin  people  in  this  club  after 
six  weeks  on  Lost  Island.  Crullers,  won't  you 
please  ride  with  the  Doctor,  just  as  a  matter  of 
revenge?" 

And  Crullers,  whose  one  strong  point  was  her 


YACHT  CLUB  323 

weight,  agreed  willingly  to  share  the  seat  with 
the  doctor  and  Mrs.  Bardwell. 

It  was  a  gay  ride  back  along  the  bay  shore 
road.  The  Doctor  was  an  old  acquaintance  of 
Aunt  Cynthy's,  for  he  loved  flowers  and  had 
often  stopped  on  his  way  to  the  post-office  to  look 
at  her  garden  and  chat  awhile  over  the  white 
cross-bar  fence. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  club  house,  the  whole 
place  seemed  rilled  with  people.  All  of  the  sum- 
mer colony  had  turned  out  in  state  to  do  honor 
to  the  regatta,  as  well  as  the  visitors.  Up  in  the 
balcony  that  overhung  the  bay,  a  band  played, 
and  the  view  out  on  the  water  was  one  the  girls 
never  forgot  all  their  lives. 

After  they  had  greeted  the  Commodore  and 
Mrs.  Vaughan,  they  found  chairs  at  a  good  angle 
of  vision,  and  established  themselves  around 
Aunt  Cynthy  as  chaperon,  while  the  Doctor  and 
Admiral  Page  went  out  on  the  committee  boat. 

The  bay  was  brilliant  in  the  sparkling  morn- 
ing sunshine.  It  was  a  perfect  day.  Crullers 
said  the  sky  looked  higher  than  usual,  and  the 
'clouds  drifted  lazily  up  from  the  southwest. 
The  great  sails  were  hoisted,  and  curved  out  in 


324  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

great  white  swells,  as  the  wind  filled  them. 
Orders  rang  out  sharply,  as  the  white-clad  sail- 
ors ran  here  and  there,  and  finally  the  start  was 
made  at  11:02  sharp.  One  after  another,  eight 
yachts  dipped  to  the  wind,  crossed  the  imaginary 
line  of  starting,  and  the  fifteen-mile  race  was  on. 

"Oh,  Polly,  just  think  how  we  shall  feel  when 
we  start  like  that,"  exclaimed  Sue,  excitedly. 
"Just  look  at  the  spread  of  canvas  on  that  last 
sloop.  All  I  can  think  of  is  a  sheet  tacked  to  a 
shingle,  by  way  of  comparison.  Polly,  Polly, 
watch  her  keel  over  as  she  catches  the  wash  from 
the  others.  Oh,  isn't  it  glorious !" 

"Don't  gush  so,  child,"  said  Aunt  Cynthy, 
placidly.  "No  sailor  talks  that  way  at  all.  But 
'tis  a  sightly  lot  of  sail  boats,  and  no  mistake. 
What's  the  name  of  that  last  one?" 

Dorothy  leaned  over  her  chair,  happy;  and 
proud. 

"That's  my  father's  sloop,  the  "Adventure"  she 
replied.  "Mamma  is  with  him.  They  are  wav- 
ing to  us,  don't  you  see?" 

"And  she's  the  only  lady  in  the  race,"  added 
OBess,  her  eyes  full  of  love  and  pleasure.  "She 
loves  it  the  same  as  we  do." 

Polly  leaned  eagerly  forward  over  the  railing. 


YACHT  CLUB  325 

She  had  handed  the  glasses  to  Kate  and  Isabel. 
Her  cap  was  off,  and  the  breeze  blew  her  curls 
back  from  her  forehead.  Her  lips  were  half 
parted,  and  her  eyes  shining  like  stars  as  she 
watched  the  stately  yachts  cross  the  bay,  and 
make  for  the  open  channel  to  the  sea. 

"I  don't  see  how  they  can  sail  with  a  southerly 
wind,"  Ted  said.  "Aren't  they  going  to  tack 
south  as  soon  as  they  strike  the  ocean?" 

"Well,  we're  facing  more  southeast,  than 
south,  aren't  we,  Polly?"  Ruth  asked  with  one 
eye  on  the  sun. 

"Girls,"  breathed  Polly,  tensely.  "I  don't 
care  a  rap  how  we're  facing.  Watch  the  race, 
and  stop  your  talking." 

'"Spoken  like  a  true  sailor,"  Aunt  Cynthy 
echoed,  warmly,  and  they  all  turned  to  the  rail- 
ing to  watch  the  yachts  as  one  by  one  they  slipped 
through  the  channel,  and  the  race  was  really  on. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  FIRST  EVENT 

IT  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  the  first 
sails  of  the  returning  fleet  appeared  in  the  chan- 
nel. All  day  long  the  girls  had  been  honored 
guests  of  the  Orienta  Club,  and  had  enjoyed 
themselves  thoroughly.  Although  both  Mrs. 
Vaughan  and  the  Commodore  were  away  on 
board  the  Adventure,  the  other  members  and 
their  wives  had  all  heard  about  the  yacht 
club  over  on  Lost  Island,  and  were  happy 
to  meet  the  girls,  and  see  that  they  had  a  pleas- 
ant day  of  it. 

"I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Allison,  the  chairman  of 
the  reception  committee  for  regatta  week,  "I 
think  it  would  be  nice  for  you  to  meet  your  com- 
petitors in  the  race,  the  girls  of  the  Junior  Club. 
Let  me  see  how  it  can  be  best  managed  ?  There 
are  six,  no,  eight,  in  your  club,  and  nine  in  the 
Juniors.  Dorothy,  will  you  just  press  that  but- 
ton behind  you,  dear?"  She  smiled  around  at 

326 


YACHT  CLUB  327 

the  circle  of  interested  faces.  "We  will  call  the 
club  steward,  and  you  may  have  a  luncheon  all 
by  yourselves  and  get  acquainted." 

So  it  was  arranged.  Instead  of  the  "girl  ele- 
ment," as  the  Doctor  laughingly  dubbed  the 
rival  clubs,  eating  luncheon  in  the  large  dining- 
hall  with  the  other  guests  and  members,  they 
were  given  one  of  the  smaller  side  rooms  all  to 
themselves. 

Dorothy  and  Bess  acted  as  official  hostesses, 
and  there  was  a  great  cluster  of  red  and  white 
carnations  in  a  cut  glass  bowl  for  a  center-piece, 
as  red  and  white  were  the  Orienta  colors.  Be- 
sides the  Vaughan  girls,  there  were  seven  others, 
all  daughters  of  club  members,  and  a  delightful 
lot  of  girls,  the  rest  decided. 

"Only  five  of  us  are  going  to  race,  though," 
said  Connie  Evans.  "This  is  my  first  year  at  the 
seashore.  We  always  go  up  to  the  Adirondacks. 
Father  has  a  lodge  up  there,  and  it  seems  so 
strange  not  to  be  closed  in  by  the  mountains.  I 
never  sailed  a  yacht  until  this  season,  and  mine 
is  just  a  'cat'  with  one  sail." 

"Most  of  us  have  catboats,"  replied  Polly,  re- 
assuringly. "Mine  is  a  'cat/  too,  and  it  is  our 
first  season  with  boats,  so  you  need  not  be  afraid 


328  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

of  racing  against  experts.  I  think  it  will  be 
lots  of  fun.  Can  you  all  swim?" 

"'No,  we  can't,  not  one,"  Bess  declared. 
"We've  been  sand  bathers  this  summer,  mamma 
says,  and  haven't  been  in  at  all  above  our  shoul- 
ders. But  I  don't  think  anything  will  happen, 
do  you,  Polly?" 

"Polly  believes  that  prevention  is  earth's  first 
law,"  laughed  Kate,  as  she  saw  Polly  shake  her 
head  doubtfully.  "You  had  best  put  a  lot  of 
buoys  and  life  preservers  in  your  boats." 

"What  time  would  they  have  to  put  them  on," 
demanded  Sue,  "if  they  just  dropped  into  the 
water?  I  think  it  would  be  a  good  idea  if  we 
wore  belts  like  acrobats  when  they  are  training, 
with  a  ring  in  the  back,  and  a  rope  fastened  to  it. 
Then  if  we  fell  over  all  we  would  have  to  do 
would  be  to  hold  on  to  the  rope  and  be  hauled  in." 

"They  say  one  of  the  men  from  the  Station  is 
to  be  on  guard  at  the  pier  all  day,  and  they  will 
watch  from  the  Point  too." 

"That's  all  right,"  Crullers  broke  in,  wistfully, 
"but  if  you  fall  overboard,  you'll  swallow  salt 
water  enough  to  drown  ten  cats,  before  they 
have  time  to  get  to  you;  I  know  from  expert 
ence," 


YACHT  CLUB  329 

"Let's  not  even  think  it  may  happen,"  said 
Polly,  happily.  "Dorothy,  couldn't  we  have  the 
Cup  on  the  table  just  as  a  reminder?" 

Dorothy  thought  perhaps  they  might,  and 
after  a  consultation  with  the  steward  the  Junior 
Cup  was  borne  in  state  into  the  room,  and  set  in 
the  place  of  honor  at  the  head  of  the  table  be- 
tween Dorothy  and  Polly,  the  two  commodores. 

"Day  after  to-morrow,"  said  Sue,  thought- 
fully regarding  it,  "I  shall  go  home  with  that 
under  my  arm." 

"Listen  to  her,  girls,"  Kate  cried.  "And  re- 
member what  I  prophesy.  The  Patsy  D.  will 
finish  fifth,  while  the  Witch  Cat  glides  over  the 
line  first." 

Polly  said  nothing.  From  her  seat  beside 
Dorothy,  she  looked  at  the  beautiful  silver  cup 
and  thought  of  the  race.  She  had  said  she  was  a 
good  sportsman,  as  the  Admiral  wished  her  to 
be,  and  she  was  sure  she  could  see  the  Cup  go  to 
the  best  yacht  without  any  feeling  of  envy,  but 
she  almost  wished  there  might  have  been  nine 
consolation  prizes,  for  something  seemed  to  tell 
her  that  the  Pirate  would  be  the  winner.  There 
was  something  different  about  Tom's  big  knock- 
about, and  the  daring  way  that  Nancy  sailed  hei\ 


330  ,THE  POLLY  PAGE 

that  left  the  other  boats  out  in  the  cold.  Nancy 
knew  the  bay  well.  She  was  used  to  every  rip- 
ple on  it,  every  turn  of  the  tide,  every  breath  of 
wind,  every  mood  and  whim  that  passed  over  it 
like  cloud  shadows.  And  she  knew,  too,  the 
trim,  slender  boat  as  she  might  some  live,  tamed 
animal  that  loved  her.  The  Cup  would  mean  a 
great  deal  more  to  her  than  to  the  other  girls. 
Most  of  them  came  from  well-to-do  families, 
and  they  themselves  were  happy,  normal  city- 
bred  girls,  who  had  had  plenty  of  amusement 
and  novelty  in  their  lives,  while  Nancy  had  spent 
all  of  hers  in  the  little  gray  cottage  that  listed  to 
leeward  on  Fair  Havens'  beach.  She  had  never 
even  been  inside  the  Orienta  until  the  girls  took 
her  with  them,  and  now  that  she  was  there  and 
had  a  chance  of  winning  the  Cup,  she  seemed  like 
another  girl.  While  the  rest  chatted  and  laughed, 
she  sat  quietly  by,  but  Polly  caught  her  glance 
now  and  then,  and  the  quick,  wistful  smile,  and 
she  knew  what  she  was  thinking  about.  Once, 
when  Dorothy  rose  to  make  a  little  speech,  Polly 
closed  her  eyes  for  a  second,  in  a  half -expressed 
prayer  that  if  it  were  right  for  Nancy  to  win  the 
race,  she  herself  might  be  willing  and  glad  to 
have  her. 


YACHT  CLUB  331 

"But  you're  not,"  she  told  herself,  after  the 
luncheon,  when  they  all  went  down  to  the  beach 
to  walk  and  pass  the  time.  Her  chin  was  raised, 
her  brown  eyes  troubled,  but  she  smiled  in  the 
old  bright  way,  and  laughed  with  the  rest,  even 
while  she  thought:  "You're  not  glad,  Polly 
Page,  that  Nancy  has  even  a  little  bit  of  a 
chance  against  the  Tidy  Jane,  and  you  want  the 
Cup  with  all  your  heart,  and  you  know  perfectly 
well  that  if  Nancy  were  not  in  the  race,  you  could 
win  it." 

"Polly,  you  look  just  like  the  Winged  Victory 
with  the  wind  blowing  back  your  hair  and  dress 
that  way,"  called  Ruth. 

"I  wouldn't  allow  such  a  comparison,"  Kate 
declared.  "Polly,  it  doesn't  have  any  head,  you 
know." 

But  Polly  smiled  and  waved  her  hand  at  them, 
and  said  nothing.  Nancy  was  walking  beside 
her,  and  she  wondered  whether  a  true  sportsman 
ever  allows  sentimental  reasons  to  outweigh  his 
sense  of  fairness,  whether  it  was  wrong  for  her 
to  hope  with  all  her  heart  that  she  might  win  the 
race  when  Nancy  had  set  all  her  hopes  on  it. 

"Father  says  that  if  I  should  win  the  Cup," 
Nancy  whispered,  happily,  as  she  slipped  her 


332  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

arm  through  Polly's,  "he'll  build  me  a  knock- 
about for  next  year  just  like  Tom's.  And  just 
think,  if  you  girls  hadn't  let  me  come  into  your 
club,  I  couldn't  have  raced  at  all.  Aren't  things 
queer,  Polly?" 

"Curious  and  curiouser,"  smiled  back  Polly, 
remembering  the  expression  of  one  'of  her  favor- 
ite heroines.  The  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Bardwell 
were  walking  towards  them,  with  several  of  the 
club  members,  and  they  all  strolled  down  to  the 
pier  to  watch  for  the  incoming  yachts.  At  just 
four-thirty-two  by  the  Doctor's  watch,  the  first 
boat  hove  in  sight  around  the  Point.  She  was 
too  far  away  for  them  to  distinguish  her  identity, 
but  hardly  had  she  come  about  and  started  on  the 
new  stretch  than  a  larger  yacht  appeared,  fol- 
lowing hard  in  her  wake. 

"That's  the  Thistle"  cried  Dorothy.  "I 
know  the  cut  of  her  sails.  Oh,  dear,  I  wonder 
if  the  other  is  papa's  ?" 

"The  Thistle's  crowding  on  more  sail,  and 
gaining,"  Polly  exclaimed,  watching  them 
through  glasses.  "She  will  win!" 

"Perhaps  not,"  Mrs.  Bardwell  rejoined  cheer- 
ily. "A  race  is  never  won  till  it's  done,  you 
know,  so  hope  to  the  finish," 


YACHT  CLUB  333 

There  were  three  in  sight  now,  one  following 
the  other  as  closely  and  evenly  as  flying  geese, 
but  still  the  Thistle  strove  to  the  fore.  That 
first  mile  up  the  bay,  the  girls  hardly  spoke,  as 
they  leaned  over  the  iron  chain  that  was  stretched 
along  the  pier  for  safety.  Their  eyes  were 
bright,  their  lips  half -parted  as  they  tried  to 
watch  every  swerve,  every  manoeuver  on  the  part 
of  the  racers.  All  at  once  Bess«  declared  she 
knew  the  first  vessel  was  the  Adventure  because 
there  was  a  lady  on  deck,  and  she  had  waved  to 
her. 

"Bess  Vaughan,"  laughed  Polly,  "you  make 
me  think  of  the  soldier  in  the  fairy  tale  who  was 
a  sharpshooter  and  could  aim  at  a  fly  on  the  limb 
of  a  tree  five  miles  off.  That  boat  is  a  mile  and 
a  half  from  us  now." 

"Just  you  wait  and  see,"  Bess  retorted  seri- 
ously. "Maybe  it  wasn't  her  handkerchief,  but 
I  know  it's  the  Adventure/' 

"Oh,  girls,"  exclaimed  Isabel,  excitedly. 
"See  the  big  one  dip  sideways." 

"Sideways,  child,"  Aunt  Cynthy  repeated, 
merrily.  "To  leeward,  dear  heart,  to  leeward." 
.  Even  at  that  distance  it  appeared  as  if  the 
larger  yacht  had  the  best  chance. 


334 

"I'm  sure  they  could  crowd  on  more  sail," 
Dorothy  said,  helplessly.  "Why  don't  they  do 
it?  Tom  says  there's  always  room  for  another 
reef  some  place  on  a  sloop." 

"That's  just  what's  happening  this  minute," 
Kate  said.  "The  Thistle  has  every  inch  on  she 
can  carry,  and  there's  still  over  a  mile  to  go." 

"Polly,  if  that  old  New  York  boat  should  win, 
I  shall  lie  down  on  the  sand,  and  simply, 
simply—  Isabel  hesitated  for  lack  of  an  apt 
expression,  but  Ted  filled  it  in  for  her  calmly. 

"Suspire.  And  be  sure  and  do  it  very  quietly, 
Isabel,  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  race." 

Isabel  laughed  good-humoredly  with  the  rest. 
The  six  weeks'  vacation  at  Lost  Island  had  helped 
her  in  many  ways.  She  would  always  be  more 
precise  than  the  other  girls,  more  attentive  to  the 
formalities  of  life,  as  Miss  Calvert  expressed  it, 
but  the  hearty,  daily  companionship  and  example 
set  by  the  rest  had  filed  down  many  sharp  little 
points  in  her  character.  At  Calvert  Hall  both 
Ted  and  Sue  had  loved  to  tease  her,  but  some- 
way she  did  not  mind  it  any  more.  She  could 
laugh  back  at  them  like  Kate  or  Polly  now,  and 
it  was  rarely  that  one  of  "Isabel's  grumbles"  was 
heard.  "Lady  Vanitas"  she  would  always  be, 


.YACHT  CLUB  335 

for  she  dearly  loved  pretty  clothes  and  dainty 
things.  Sue  had  expressed  her  ideas  on  dress 
aptly  one  day  when  she  had  remarked  that  Isa- 
bel couldn't  even  wear  a  sweater  at  basket  ball 
unless  it  had  a  fancy  border  to  it  and  a  stickpin 
in  front.  Even  to-day  the  brim  of  her  white 
duck  yachting  cap  was  pinned  jauntily  back  with 
a  class  pin,  while  the  other  girls  had  turned 
theirs  down  to  keep  the  sun  out  of  their  eyes. 
It  seemed  as  if  Isabel's  collar  never  wilted  un- 
der the  hottest  sun,  her  belt  never  sagged  out  of 
place,  and  her  shoe  strings  never  came  untied. 
Polly's  eyes  always  lingered  over  this  member 
of  her  crew  approvingly,  for  she,  too,  loved  neat- 
ness and  good  taste. 

All  of  the  club  verandas  were  thronged  with 
onlookers  during  that  final  half  hour.  Both 
boats  were  hesitating  under  a  vagrant  puff  of 
adverse  wind,  when  suddenly  the  Adventure 
seemed  to  get  under  way  and  slipped  steadily 
down  the  course,  ahead  of  her  New  York  rival. 
Something  white  fluttered  from  her  deck,  and 
all  of  the  girls  waved  their  handkerchiefs  wildly 
in  response.  Somewhere  back  in  the  crowd  on 
shore  a  boy's  voice  shouted : 

"Come  along,  Adventure,  come  along  there!" 


336  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

The  girls  laughed,  for  they  knew  it  must  be 
Tom,  losing  his  head  at  the  critical  moment. 
The  little  sloop  held  gallantly  to  the  point  she 
had  gained,  and  glided  finally  over  the  imaginary 
line  that  ended  the  course,  while  cheer  on  cheer 
rang  out  from  the  club  house  and  the  shore  away 
up  to  the  hotel.  The  cup  would  remain  with  the 
Orienta  Club  for  another  season. 

After  the  shouts  had  at  last  died  away,  and 
the  fussy  little  committee  launch  had  puffed 
back  and  forth  among  the  returning  yachts,  the 
girls  took  their  leave,  and  started  homeward, 
with  the  Admiral  and  the  Vaughan  girls  in  tow. 
The  Doctor  had  undertaken  to  return  Mrs. 
Bard  well  safely  to  the  house  of  the  roses,  and 
she  declared  as  she  kissed  each  girl  that  it  had 
been  the  first  day  she  had  spent  in  society  in 
twenty  years. 

"Bless  her,"  Polly  said  tenderly,  as  she 
watched  the  Doctor  tuck  the  tan  lap  robe  about 
her.  "She  doesn't  know  what  a  nice  'society'  she 
is  all  by  herself.' 

"Admiral  Page,"  interposed  Ted,  gravely, 
"isn't  Polly  sentimental?" 

"All  sailors  should  be,"  rejoined  the  Admiral, 


YACHT  CLUB  337 

his  eyes  twinkling.  "Not  exactly  sentimental, 
but  full  of  sentiment,  eh,  Polly,  mate?" 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  said  Polly,  but  she  was  think- 
ing of  something  else,  thinking  of  Nancy  and 
the  Junior  Cup. 

Aunty  Welcome  lived  up  to  her  name  in  the 
dinner  that  she  had  prepared  for  her  "Marse 
Bob."  Polly  had  declared  the  dining-room  in 
the  cottage  was  too  small  for  such  a  festive  occa- 
sion, so  dinner  was  served  in  state  out  on  the 
porch.  It  was  an  evening  they  all  remembered 
out  of  a  long,  happy  summer-time.  Two  small 
tables  set  together  made  quite  a  commodious 
banquet  board.  Aunt  Cynthy's  bouquets,  fresh- 
ened up  after  a  good  drink  of  water,  made  a 
pretty  centerpiece,  with  the  blue  and  gold  yacht 
club  pennant  waving  above  it.  The  Admiral  in- 
sisted on  Polly  taking  the  head  of  the  table  with 
Kate,  as  club  chaperon,  at  the  foot. 

"I  am  merely  a  guest,"  he  said,  "and  will  sit 
at  the  Commodore's  right  hand,  if  she  will  per- 
mit." 

Long  after  the  sun  went  down,  the  little  din- 
ner party  went  on,  until  the  moon  rose,  and  the 
bay  lay  like  a  sea  of  quicksilver  and  jet  below 


388  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

them.  Then  they  heard  the  sound  of  wheels 
along  the  shore  road,  and  Tom's  long  cheery 
hail,  and  the  Admiral  rose  to  take  his  leave. 

"To-morrow,"  he  told  them,  "you  had  better 
stay  right  here  and  rest.  The  day's  event  is  for 
twenty-footers  and  over,  and  they  have  a  long 
course  to  cover.  I'll  run  over  in  the  afternoon 
and  see  how  you  are.  Tom  or  the  Captain  will 
go  over  the  yachts  with  me,  for  I  want  to  be  sure 
everything  is  shipshape." 

Dorothy  and  Bess  had  returned  with  the  girls, 
and  as  it  was  their  first  night  at  Lost  Island, 
there  were  whisperings  and  smothered  laughter 
long  after  the  official  "taps"  had  been  sounded. 

"What's  'taps'?"  echoed  Ted  when  Bess  asked 
what  they  meant.  "Just  listen." 

Out  in  the  kitchen  Aunty  Welcome's  steady 
footfalls  could  be  heard  as  she  moved  around, 
locking  the  door,  winding  the  clock,  humming  a 
sweet  old  camp-meeting  tune  under  her  breath, 
and  finally  stepping  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  to 
blow  out  the  bracket  lamp  that  hung  there. 

"You  all  keep  still,  now,  and  go  to  sleep,  and 
say  your  prayers,  like  good  chilluns,  you  hyar 
me?'*  she  asked  forcibly.  There  was  a  dead 
silence,  supposed  to  come  only  from  heavy  sleep- 


,YACHT  CLUB  330 

ers.  As  soon  as  she  had  gone  to  her  own  room, 
Ted's  head  rose  from  the  couch,  and  she  whis- 
pered : 

"That's 'taps'." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  WINNER  OF  THE  JUNIOR  CUP 

THEY  took  the  Admiral's  advice  the  next  day, 
and  rested.  Dorothy  and  Bess  were  anxious  to 
look  over  the  shells  and  specimens  the  girls  had 
found  during  the  summer,  and  helped  arrange 
them  for  the  home  going  the  end  of  the  week. 
The  two  shell  curtains  that  Kate  and  Isabel  had 
made  were  completed,  and  ready  to  be  shipped 
by  express,  with  some  of  the  heavier  shells. 

Crullers  had  surprised  everybody  by  finding 
out  a  new  way  to  use  the  small  shells  in  decora- 
tion. She  had  had  quite  a  taste  for  drawing  and 
applied  design  at  school,  and  now  had  glued  the 
shells  to  heavy  cardboard,  after  first  tracing  out 
a  decorative  design.  The  effect  was  surpris- 
ingly unique  and  attractive.  Ted  had  looked  at 
the  result  with  a  speculative  eye,  but  she  was  gen- 
erous with  her  praise,  and  frank  spoken. 

"I  never  thought  old  Crullers  had  such  a 
knack  in  her  fingertips,"  she  said. 

340 


YACHT  CLUB  341 

"Didn't  you?"  Polly  asked,  smiling.  "I  al- 
ways knew  that  she  loved  beautiful  things,  and 
when  you  do  you'll  generally  make  something 
beautiful  yourself  to  add  to  it,  don't  you  know?" 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  Ted  agreed,  push- 
ing back  her  red  curls  restlessly.  "Fraulein 
called  it  the  personal  quality  in  art,  the  gift  of 
expression.  What  was  that  old  painter's  name 
who  used  such  a  wonderful  red  in  his  pictures, 
and  when  he  died  they  found  it  was  his  heart's 
blood  he  had  been  painting  with.  I  guess  that's 
personal  expression,  isn't  it?  I  haven't  any, 
Miss  Calvert  says.  I  haven't  any  artistic  sense." 

"We  all  have  it,"  PoUy  insisted.  "You  can- 
not help  but  have  it,  because  it's  the  gift  of  your- 
self. What  do  you  like  to  do  more  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  world?" 

Ted  meditated,  then  her  face  brightened. 

"Travel,"  she  said.  "Walk,  ride,  swim,  run, 
sail,  do  anything  as  long  as  I'm  going  some 
place." 

Polly  laughed  heartily. 

"That's  what  the  Captain  says  about  you,  that 
you  won't  stay  put,"  she  said. 

The  Captain  had  come  down  to  the  island  in 
the  afternoon  and  gone  over  the  racing  boats 


342  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

carefully  with  Tom  and  the  Admiral.  Finally 
they  had  pronounced  everything  "fit,"  as  the 
Captain  said,  and  started  to  go  when  Polly  asked 
for  an  opinion  as  to  which  one  stood  the  best 
chance  of  winning  the  race. 

"With  a  fair  wind  and  tide,  anyone  of  them  is 
liable  to  win,"  the  Captain  declared  flatly. 
"They're  the  knowingest  lot  of  boats  on  the  bay, 
anyhow.  Start  them  properly,  and  lash  their 
tillers,  and  I'd  be  surprised  if  they  didn't  start 
and  race  by  themselves." 

There  were  light  appetites  at  breakfast  the 
next  morning. 

"Mah  sakes  alive,"  protested  Aunty,  "how  you 
spec  you  going  to  win  any  race  and  old  silver 
cup  an'  saucer,  lessen  you  get  good  inside  linings 
so  your  ribs  don't  stick  together,  honeys?" 

But  it  was  no  use.  Chocolate  and  toast  was 
the  repast,  and  then  they  dressed  for  the  race. 
The  start  was  to  be  at  ten  from  the  Orienta. 
Bess  and  Dorothy  crossed  the  bay  on  the  Tidy 
Jane  with  Polly,  then  took  their  own  yacht. 
The  girls  had  precious  little  to  say  to  each  other. 
Just  before  the  moment  of  starting,  Commodore 
Vaughan  made  them  a  little  speech  from  the 
deck  of  the  committee  launch,  commending  them 


YACHT  CLUB  343 

highly  for  their  ardor  in  outdoor  sport,  and  the 
spirit  of  good  fellowship  that  existed  among 
them  all. 

"There  is  a  double  emulation  in  all  this,"  he 
remarked.  "This  is  a  race  between  two  clubs, 
and  a  race  between  individuals  as  well.  You 
may  beat  the  Juniors,  or  the  Juniors  may  beat 
the  Polly  Page  Club,  but  besides  that  you  will 
win  or  lose  from  each  other,  even  as  members  of 
the  same  club.  I  wish  you  a  fair  wind  and  all 
success."  He  glanced  at  his  watch,  hesitated, 
and  just  on  the  touch  of  the  hands  at  ten,  gave 
the  signal  for  the  start. 

Sue  was  the  first  to  gain.  For  some  reason 
Polly  and  Nancy  blundered  in  the  get-away.  It 
looked  as  if  each  had  tried  to  give  the  other  one 
the  advantage  in  the  start,  but  as  they  all  slipped 
down  the  bay  they  looked  like  a  flock  of  white 
winged  sea  birds,  flying  low. 

South  they  sailed  towards  Lost  Island  and 
Aunty  Welcome  came  out  on  the  porch  and 
waved  a  tablecloth  at  them  excitedly,  so  they 
would  feel  encouraged.  The  committee  boat 
puffed  behind,  and  picked  up  two  of  the  Juniors 
at  the  end  of  the  first  mile,  when  they  became 
confused  over  tacking  around  the  small  islands. 


344  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Nancy  was  ahead  now  with  the  Pirate,  and 
Kate's  Witch  Cat  second,  with  the  Nixie  push- 
ing her  way  steadily  towards  them.  When  they 
passed  Smugglers'  Island,  the  Doctor  was  wait- 
ing for  them  in  his  motor  boat,  and  the  Natica 
joined  the  committee  yacht  as  a  sort  of  marine 
rear  guard. 

To  Polly  the  first  five  miles  seemed  like  a 
dream.  She  could  feel  the  Tidy  Jane  spring  to 
the  touch  of  the  waves,  and  her  heart  seemed  to 
leap  with  it.  When  they  neared  the  Point,  she 
saw  the  white-clad  crew  come  down  from  the  sta- 
tion, and  caught  the  hearty  cheer  they  sent  ring- 
ing over  the  water  to  the  girl  sailors. 

Nancy  hardly  stopped  long  enough  to  wave 
back  at  them.  The  turn  in  the  course  came  at 
the  end  of  the  Point,  and  she  hardly  thought 
about  it,  so  intent  was  she  on  speed,  until  all  at 
once  Polly  came  steadily  up  behind  her,  passed 
Ted  and  Sue,  Kate,  and  the  others,  and  made  the 
tack  with  hardly  any  pause. 

"That's  Polly's  best  trick  in  yachting,"  Ted 
thought,  with  a  big  throb  of  admiration.  "She 
sees  it  coming,  and  is  ready  to  let  go  her  main 
sheet  on  the  instant,  and  come  about.  And 
then  she  goes  after  the  cup  a-flying," 


YACHT  CLUB  345 

It  was  true.  In  that  last  joyous  spurt  ahead, 
all  thought  of  Nancy  left  her.  There  was  only 
the  beautiful  stretch  of  sky,  and  wind  and  waves 
calling  to  her.  Her  cap  fell  off  in  the  bottom 
of  the  cock  pit,  and  she  lost  her  hair  ribbon. 
The  wind  caught  her  long  curls  and  blew  them 
about  as  it  pleased,  as  she  leaned  forward,  keen 
eyed,  intent  on  every  point  that  needed  watch- 
ing. And  finally,  away  down  the  bay,  she 
caught  the  sound  of  cheers  and  wondered  what 
the  matter  was. 

"It  must  be  Nancy  catching  up  with  me," 
she  thought,  but  one  name  on  the  wind  caught 
her  ear,  one  name  shouted  over  and  over  and 
over. 

"The  Tidy  Jane,  the  Tidy  Jane,  the  Tidy 
Ja-a-ane!3' 

How  they  shouted  it,  and  dwelt  on  it,  and 
hung  to  it,  until  the  echoes  flung  it  back  from 
the  big  bluff s  above  the  shore,  but  all  at  once 
something  happened.  Polly  did  not  realize  it 
herself,  until  she  caught  sight  of  Nancy's  face, 
brave  and  sweet,  but  deadly  white. 

Not  twenty  feet  away  from  the  Tidy  Jane, 
the  prow  of  the  knockabout  came  about,  as 
Nancy  tried  her  best  to  overtake  her  rival. 


346  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Down  on  the  shore  they  could  hear  Tom's  voice 
shouting, 

"Come  along,  Nance,  come  along  in." 

To  Nancy  it  was  the  final  touch  of  the  spur. 
She  forgot  Polly,  forgot  everything,  except  the 
fame  of  the  Pirate,  and  the  Junior  Cup.  She 
measured  the  end  of  the  course  with  a  steady, 
practiced  eye,  and  her  distance  from  the  Tidy 
Jane.  Nobody  but  Polly  saw  how  she  did  it, 
and  even  she  did  not  understand  the  craft 
of  it.  It  had  been  a  fragment  of  the  Captain's 
teaching  long  ago. 

"When  the  wind  and  the  tide's  agin  your  mak- 
ing a  certain  point,  jam  her  down  hard  into  the 
teeth  of  it,  and  give  your  tiller  two  sharp  turns, 
hard  to  port  then  hard  to  starboard,  and  she'll 
come  up  handsomely." 

Straight  for  the  pier  the  Pirate  turned,  and 
then  came  about,  and  made  for  the  end  of  the 
course. 

The  other  yachts  were  strung  out  behind,  Dor- 
othy beating  up  closely,  Connie  Evans  and  Sue 
last  of  all,  and  the  rest  dotting  the  bay  between 
the  Pirate  and  the  Tidy  Jane. 

Polly  saw  the  way  Nancy  had  caught  up  to 
her,  and  for  the  minute  she  held  her  breath.  All 


YACHT  CLUB  347 

at  once  she  knew  that  she  was  going  to  lose  the 
race,  and  the  strangest  part  of  it  was,  she  could 
see  Nancy  win,  and  feel  a  great  wave  of  joy 
over  it.  As  the  Pirate's  boom  passed  her,  she 
slackened  her  own  main  sheet,  turned  her  head 
and  smiled  at  Nancy,  and  the  first  cheer  that  went 
up  for  the  winner  of  the  Junior  Cup,  was  when 
Polly  stood  up,  and  waved  her  hand  with  a  clear, 

"Hurrah!     Hurrah!" 

Tom  promptly  stood  on  his  head,  as  the  shouts 
rang  out  over  the  bay,  and  shore.  The  Admiral 
himself  helped  Nancy  out  as  if  she  had  been  a 
queen. 

"You  did  handsomely,  little  girl,  handsomely," 
he  said. 

Polly  was  hardly  a  minute  behind  her,  and  as 
she  too  reached  the  Orienta  pier,  and  tossed  her 
rope  up  to  the  willing  hands,  she  threw  her  arms 
around  the  victor. 

"I  am  so  glad  you've  won,  Nancy,"  she  said. 
"You  don't  know  how  glad." 

"So  am  I,"  answered  Nancy,  softly,  her 
glance  seeking  one  face  out  of  all  the  crowd. 
"Where's  father?" 

"Here  I  be,  mate!"  called  the  old  skipper,  joy- 
ously, and  right  there  before  the  crowd,  he  swung 


348  THE  POLLY  PAGE 

Nancy  up  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  proudly. 

Just  then  the  Commodore  himself  appeared, 
and  he  bore  the  fateful  cup.  Blushing,  and  with 
downcast  lashes,  Nancy  listened  to  the  presenta- 
tion speech.  She  couldn't  quite  catch  it  all,  but 
there  was  one  expression  that  lingered.  He 
called  her  a  daughter  of  the  old  Pine  Tree  State, 
who  had  borne  off  a  trophy  that  should  remind 
her  not  only  of  a  deserved  victory  but  also  of  the 
friendship  and  fellowship  of  the  sister  club,  the 
Orienta  Juniors. 

"Neatly  put,"  said  the  old  Admiral,  as  they 
journeyed  back  home,  and  for  the  first  time  he 
was  a  guest  on  the  Tidy  Jane.  "Nancy,  you're 
a  conquering  heroine,  my  dear,  like  your  name- 
sake, Nancy  Lee,  and  the  Captain,  and  Polly  and 
I  are  proud  of  you." 

When  they  reached  Lost  Island,  the  Doctor 
detained  Polly  a  moment  at  the  landing,  while 
the  others  went  on  to  the  house.  "I  have  a 
trophy  for  the  second  in  the  race,  one  that  is 
given  jointly  by  Father  Neptune  and  myself," 
he  said,  as  he  reached  his  hand  into  his  pocket 
mysteriously,  then  held  it  out  to  Polly.  On  the 
open  palm  lay  one  of  the  pearls  from  Ceylon. 

"Just  in  memory  of  many  happy  days  and 


YACHT  CLUB  349 

many  jars  of  marmalade,"  he  smiled,  as  Polly 
took  it,  speechless  and  radiant.  "And  I  want 
to  tell  you  a  secret.  You  accused  me,  Miss 
Polly,  of  using  marmalade  as  bait.  But  I 
never  did  anything  of  the  kind.  Don't  laugh, 
now.  What  I  did  do  was  to  eat  it  and  im- 
bibe courage  and  peace  and  a  settled  happiness 
from  the  atmosphere  of  Lost  Island,  so  that  I 
have  triumphed.  I  am  going  back  to  Wash- 
ington this  week  myself.  I  have  found  the 
polypi!" 

Two  days  remained  to  the  girls,  but  they  were 
so  taken  up  in  packing,  and  preparing  Aunty 
Welcome  for  the  trip  back  South,  that  they 
passed  swiftly.  Saturday  morning  the  carry-all 
bore  them  over  to  Eastport,  but  it  had  to  make 
two  trips,  and  each  time  it  stopped  at  Fair 
Havens,  where  Mrs.  Carey  and  Nancy  said  good- 
bye to  the  girls,  and  the  Captain  waved  them  a 
salute. 

"It  has  been  the  best  summer  I  ever  had,". 
Nancy  cried,  as  she  shook  hands  with  them  all, 
and  kissed  the  girls  and  Aunty  too.  "You've 
been  so  good  to  me,  and  given  me  such  a  happy 
time,  that  I  just  can't  thank  you." 

"We've  got  the  Junior  Cup  up  on  the  parlor 


350 

mantel,"  added  Tom  proudly,  "right  under 
mother's  framed  marriage  certificate,  and 
father's  model  of  his  first  schooner.  And  Nancy 
sticks  a  bouquet  of  fresh  posies  in  it  every  morn- 
ing, girls." 

Nancy  blushed  radiantly,  and  kissed  Polly  a 
second  time. 

"Sometimes  I  wonder  if  you  let  me  win,"  she 
whispered.  "You  held  up  a  little  I  thought, 
there  at  the  very  last." 

"Did  I?"  laughed  Polly.  "It  was  because  I 
was  so  glad  and  surprised  when  I  saw  the  old 
Pirate  nosing  her  way  past  me,  that  was  all. 
Goodbye,  dear.  Don't  forget  us." 

"Fair  wind  and  tide  to  you  wherever  you  sail, 
mates,"  the  Captain  called;  and  there  were  tears 
in  the  girls'  eyes  as  they  watched  the  last  view 
of  the  little  shore  cottage,  and  the  two  figures 
there  at  the  garden  gate,  the  Captain  with  the 
wind  blowing  back  his  curly  hair,  as  sturdy,  as 
tall,  and  as  storm-proof  as  one  of  the  pines  up 
on  Bald  Mountain. 

"Girls,  it's  been  the  happiest  summer  I've  ever 
had,"  cried  Ruth  as  she  put  her  head  on  Polly's 
shoulder,  and  wept. 

But  Polly  laughed  in  her  old  cheery  way. 


YACHT  CLUB  351 

"Cheer  up,"  she  said.  "It  won't  be  the  last. 
Turn  around,  like  a  good  fellow,  and  wave  a 
salute  back  at  the  old  flag  pole,  and  to  Xancy, 
bless  her." 

So  they  all  stood  up  in  the  old  carry-all  at  that 
last  turn  in  the  old  shore  road,  and  solemnly, 
hopefully,  lovingly  saluted  the  last  glimpse  of 
Lost  Island,  and  the  winner  of  the  Junior  Cup. 


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